Big Sky Sobriety

It's Sunday and we're driving through the mountains, going east from Missoula. "We" is an old blue Dodge van and me, John, an aging alcoholic. Usually, I just say "alcoholic," but this is a bummer night so it is "aging." I drive along in the darkness, wind blowing, and small hard flakes of snow hitting the windshield and bouncing away. The AA warning--never get too tired, too hungry, too lonely--runs through my mind. I'm not very hungry, only a little tired, but the blue van seems to be expanding like a giant balloon just to hold all the loneliness. I should have stopped earlier and found a meeting. The last visit didn't go well and I've been brooding about it. One day at a time, John, stay in the present.