This morning found me once again down at the corner store, drinking free coffee, and talking to my favorite clerk. I know I am starting to sound like a broken record. I am a creature of habit. The police were out in full force this morning, fueling their patrol cars, and it made me nervous. I have terrible luck and I just knew something from my drinking past would pop up to bite me in the ass.
"Oh, they're harmless," my favorite clerk said of the police after one had just left.
"Well, when I was drinking I would do things and then not remember them the next day," I replied. "I am always worried my past is going to come back to haunt me."
"That must be a terrible feeling," he told me.
"Tell me about it!" I exclaimed. "It is a horrible feeling! I have this nagging feeling I have warrants out for my arrest."
"You still going to AA?"
"I haven't been in weeks," I replied. "I am on my sixteenth day of sobriety, though. I just haven't wanted to drink and that is a miracle."
"Maybe your cured."
"They say once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic," I replied. "I don't think I am cured. The day I think I am cured is the day I will drink again."
I left my clerk friend to walk over to that little park by the cotton mill. It was too cold to linger, though, and my coffee had run out with my hands growing bitterly cold. I walked back home taking in the full glory of all the Christmas lights in my neighborhood. A sliver of a crescent moon was on the Eastern horizon and hung low along with Venus. It was a beautiful morning, a beautiful sight, and a fine start to the day despite my nagging paranoia about the police. "What tangled webs we weave," was my thought on my past drinking as I trudged home in the predawn dark.