And it begins like this…

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Man peeingI’m taking a whiz in an inappropriate place again. Apparently five plus years of sobriety have done little to suppress my “world-is-a-toilet” viewpoint.

Tonight it’s on the side of a forest-green Waste Management Dumpster behind a Fry’s supermarket. The street sweeping company I drive for has sent me to clean the shopping center parking lot. Three whitewashed cinder block walls and a creaky wooden gate housing the Dumpster afford some privacy. But the fear of getting caught does, admittedly, give me a longed for rush of adrenaline.

Tinkle, tinkle little star…

As urine flows I do the math: nine dollars an hour times six and a half hours. Tonight I stand to make fifty eight dollars and fifty cents. As I give little Florida a shake and tuck him back into my pants, the underutilized abacus in my head finishes the calculation: eighteen months ago I was a high dollar consultant who would have made that in thirty-two minutes. However, eighteen months ago I was also on the verge of a manic break—while in sobriety–and a felony conviction.

But I’m getting ahead of myself…

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