Monday's were a long day for my mother. She would teach all day and then she would pile all us kids into the car to drive to Columbus, Georgia and the chiropractor. "He's cute," my father would say of my mother's crush upon her doctor when we would complain of the long drive when a doctor was available in our hometown. Mom would urge all us children to do our homework in the car as she drove and listened to country music. Do you realize how futile that was? We were more interested in fighting and picking on my little sister in the backseat.
My back is hurting me this afternoon and it reminded me of those trips to the chiropractor. My back never hurt until mom started to force me into seeing that quack for years. I think it is my kidneys and I tend to be a hypochondriac these days. No more drinking for me I decided this afternoon sobering up. I just had to step back out one more time to see if it was still the same. The hangovers. The paranoia. The elation and no-care-in-the-world attitude drinking brings for me. I can be rash and quick with words and even quicker with a temper. You know what I hate the most? The guilt. Guilt for letting down Rosa and guilt for letting down my readers. Excuse me while I go slink off and pour out half a case of beer. I just can't have it in the house as I come down from this drunk. It was fun while it lasted, but I just enjoy it too much and will abuse it.