After Bud’s revelation that he was married, David had crumpled, fallen in on himself totally. Corey, plus a little chemical help from the makers of Prozac, had—after many long weeks of crying jags, sleepless nights, angry shouting matches and scary periods of hysterical laughter—managed to get David back on something approaching an even keel. Much against Corey’s better judgment, David decided to go back to work after taking just two weeks of sick leave. David knew the comforting routine of getting up, going to work, even the endless and usually tedious meetings, would all serve to help him get back to a state of normalcy. David got and remained drunk over Thanksgiving. Unable to face the fact he had nothing for which to be thankful, he spent the long weekend in an alcohol-induced stup