Luck

Last night we drank, sang, and danced the night away under lights down by the river. This morning we woke frustrated to the knocking of a painter whose sole purpose seems to keep us from resting while we're in this apartment.

I'm grateful for these ups and downs because they mean I'm alive. In the conversations I've had catching up with these old friends of mine, I found out that a person we grew up with died from an opiate overdose. I also found out that another, someone I've known since I was a child, is struggling with their own addiction and just got out of the limited time in rehab their insurance would cover.

I don't know what else there is to write after that, except that we're all luckier to be here than we think.