Frazzled Future Bridget Hiding In the Bathroom
A pretty good way to know you’re an alcoholic is if the mere thought of never drinking again makes you want
to kill yourself. “I’m useless” consumes most of January. “Just a body taking up space.” After decades
of defiantly chasing delusions of grandeur, I get sober and suddenly I don’t
have a clue who I am or what I want.
I know one thing: I’m
a giant loser. On paper, I’m a college
dropout, financially bankrupt divorcee.
In real life, I’m a waitress--not that there is anything wrong with
that—but I’m pretty sure my stupid letter you write to your future self from
High School didn’t read: