Haven't given up yet. Last year about this time, I jumped off the wagon again, after I had a gym bag, a back-pack, and a couple of full journals stolen, car window smashed through in San Francisco. It was an Olympics bag from the 1980's. A few days before it happened I had a dream that there was a crackhead wearing that bag, who had a couple of my journals. I had the dream written down, on the first page of a journal I was writing in, sitting in a restaurant in downtown SF, while my car was getting broken into a few blocks away. They stole one or two full journals, full of poetry, and the first few pages of The Father of Lies. They also got some gym clothes and an older pair of running shoes, and a bunch of theological books. Probably very little that a crack smoker was looking for. The glove compartment was unlocked. They left the ipod in it. There was also a camera and a hard drive with resale value, sitting under the Olympics bag, that the thief overlooked in the darkness and their hurry. Oops. Maybe they will finish my book for me.
A few days later I started getting drunk again, smoking weed and drinking wine. A month or so later I tried smoking crack. I bought it from a man in downtown San Francisco, but he wasn't wearing my bag. And the high was no good anyhow. I'm glad about that.
If I keep taking it one day at a time I will have 11 months sober on the 11th day of the 12th month of the 11th year of the 21st century; but numbers are just about as over-rated as crack.
Nonetheless, I think I'll just stay on track, play it safe, stay off the crack, and leave the past where it is.
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