6.21.25
I was woken up at 5 a.m. this morning by a tiny little paw playfully smacking me in the nose. Poppy doesn’t understand personal space or the concept of keeping her paws to herself. She’s lucky she’s cute.
Last night was a huge alumni meeting—probably the largest I’ve attended since my days as a resident in rehab. I’ve made a lot of friends through meetings and events, but it was still kind of sad looking around and seeing so few familiar faces. The people I lived with, laughed with, cried with… most of them weren’t there. I wonder about all of them. I hope they’re still in recovery. I hope they’re okay.
But at the end of the day, I know I have to focus on my own recovery. I can care, I can hope, but I can’t carry it all.
Today is our monthly alumni event—Build-A-Boat. We’re meeting at a park by the river that has a little pond, and the plan is to build rafts out of PVC, cardboard, and duct tape… and then race them. What could possibly go wrong?
Also, it’s freezing. It’s only supposed to be 65 degrees. In June.
This is going to be a complete fucking disaster, and I’m so excited. It’s going to be one of those train wrecks you can’t look away from—in the best possible way. Mostly, it’s going to be a ridiculous, messy, epic time spent with good people. And right now, that’s more than enough.
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