High Hopes

I had been drunk for four years and three weeks, in and out of jails and hospitals, plus the cops were looking for me for a few little things, like drunk driving, bum checks, and just getting falling-down drunk in inappropriate places. I weighed 108 pounds and didn't have a friend left in the world. I was sleeping in a little flophouse room in San Francisco for two dollars a week and I hadn't paid the rent. I was afraid I was going to be thrown out and I was sick as a dog and I didn't have a cent to my name and I needed a drink.