God just called and said, even he’s had it, he’s headed to the Sea of Galilee for a little trout fishing.
My life is breaking down like the circus leaving town. I woke up to the news that my trusty 12 Step meeting was closed till further notice.
It’s as if Lourdes shut her doors.
I know I won’t pick up a drink, but my alcoholism compared to many is small change.
The other day a man in his 70s, grizzled, crusty, reminded me of an old sailor with many tales of shipwrecks to tell, said…he was much more afraid of picking up a drink then he was of the Coronavirus.
My heart was suddenly on the seat next to me weeping, wringing its hands.
The most I’ll do is eat a pie, but what about him. Toss in the churches randomly closing like pup tents and he’s pretty fucked, forgiving my parlance because prayer walks hand and hand with sobriety, whether you’re a believer or not.
Every day something else weirder occurs.
My library announced that it would have two days for members to stock up on books, then it was closing till at least the first of April.
Considering that’s April Fools Day, I’m sure not expecting banners and confetti.
When I naturally went, the serial reader that I am, you were only allowed into the stacks, no other part of the library. Some fearful fool as if none of us understood English, put yellow tape along all the doors like a crime scene with big black printed signs…
It was suddenly 1940 and the Germans had taken over Paris.
Next came, Starbucks pulling out all the seats so you couldn’t stay. Take-out only. That I’m sure will be the next crime scene to be posted…
CLOSED TILL FURTHER NOTICE
Church, coffee and recovery all on hold.
I’ll tell ya.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and I sure hope those fish are jumpin’.
Susannah in a sling