Insomnia was my friend in the middle of the night.
Maybe my body was in shock because I had a clean kitchen.
I sat in candle lit darkness and brought to God
my page 86 answers. It was my first attempt
at writing it all out instead of lying in bed
and trying to mentally review my day
before my eyes slammed shut.
I quite liked it.
In AA they say if you want what we have then
do what we do. And I admire this woman's
sobriety, so answering those questions on paper
is my way, in part, of doing what she does.
I have a sneaking suspicion had I been in the habit
of writing them out I wouldn't have put off
fessing up about my slip.
That was closer to the edge of relapse than
I want to be ever again.
Did I mention I've reached that age
where reading glasses are a must?
Part of me wants to make a joke that
maybe with glasses I could see
pages 86, 87, and 88 in the Big Book better.
But I know it's the following of what those
pages hold that's important.
Of course it does help if one can read it first.
Which I can, without glasses, I just have to hold them at arms length.
Hmmm. I was holding them at arms length mentally as well.
Well, there you go.
I've written myself right into a corner this morning.
I was going to tell you about the hen house times ten
that the eye glass place was last weekend.
They were having their annual sale and I swear
everyone and their dog was crammed into that building.
I tried on a handful of frames, looked at the sales rep
and told her I had no patience for the whole process
when the place sounded like they brought a hen house indoors
and then put it on speaker phone.
So I picked out a pair, any pair,
and left the cacaphony behind.
After all, they're only reading glasses.
I won't have to actually look at anyone when I wear them.
Page 86 won't care what I look like.
It just hopes I heed its message.