Sunday, December 2, 1990. 1:25 A.M.My head is pounding when I stumble into my apartment after my shift at the bar, and I groan. I had been unable to kill my hangover no matter how much water I’d downed all day.
“Never again,” I mutter as I peel out of my clothes and hurry into the shower to wash off the stink of smoke.
I also muttered “never again” this morning when I crawled out of bed and fumbled for pills to make my headache go away as I tried not to throw up around the dead animal that seemed to have crawled into my mouth and died during the night. I mumbled “never again” when I had to pour a bottle of the same wine I’d guzzled down yesterday, willing my stomach to stop roiling and swallowing down bile threatening to erupt in my mouth.
“Next time Brian and Lyle turn up outside the r
