Friday and it si just another day. The construction is going fairly wee. After 2 months and 2 weeks we finally have a foundation. I mean, it's only a 25 x 20 room. Actually it looks like it will be about four inches shorter on each dimension. I don't like to pick at minor things, but why can't they just build it the way it is drawn? They scrimp on everything even the dimensions by a few points.

Today at work we finished the remote control panels for the UN. The security upgrade is keeping everyone busy, even us, with only a little piece of the pedestrian control security. Interesting work though.

All it does is to help an honest guard do his job. It won't save money on manpower. These things just act as an extra set of eyes to help the existing staff. Many people think these things eliminate guards. They don't. But if you want to maintain any level of security you need it all. More on this in another post. For now leave it alone and accept that access devices don't do a thing to save budget money. All they do if they are done properly is to increase security with current staffing levels.

A bit down and disheartened lately. I am really tired or down or something. It could be the 20 years I don't have. Or it could be that I am coming down with something. Or maybe just a bit depressed.

Tomorrow should be a better day.

January 11, 1986 seems so long ago in some ways, my life was so different. My Mom dropped me off in front of Smithers Rehab in Manhattan about 11:00 AM on January 10, 1986. I left the car with a small suitcase and lots of fear about walking into what I thought would be much like an insane asylum from the movies.

I was expected, and before I was shown where to go, my suitcase was emptied and searched for drugs and booze. They didn't find my stash (my being so clever and all). A short while later, I heard my name over the paging system. The loudest speaker in the building was in the men's room, right above where I was standing, snorting a bit of coke that I had hid in the lining of my suitcase.

I jumped, looking for the camera, and quickly flushed all evidence down the toilet. I was being called for a medical exam but I didn't know that at the time. And they didn't have cameras either. But they did succeed in scaring me enough to get rid of all the contraband I brought in. And so, the next day was my first clean and sober day. January 11th, 1986.

Lots of stuff happened to me since then, and I did lots of things since then. I haven't had a drink. I haven't had any cocaine, pot, or hallucinogens. But, seven or eight years ago I relapsed on heroin.

It took a couple of years to fight back the demons and get clean again. I stayed sober I guess. I am told that sober is a state of mind not a state of drunk. If that is true, every dry drunk and every AA who has a shitty day is not sober either. I wish I could somehow hold onto the twenty years of sobriety I would have had.

I am clean and sober now for about five and a half years again. Some would say we all only have today. Others would say (and have said) that I must have "problems other than alcoholism" to pick up after 13 years. Marty from Forest Hills told me that. A guy who likes to talk about how sober he is while he steals record albums from friends and can't earn a decent living (after 21 years "sober"). Unfortunately, I actually listen to assholes like this, and beat myself up just a bit more.

Well, I am lucky to have the time I do. I am even luckier to have a family with two great daughters who love me to death. My wife loves me in her own way too, along with my Mom, (my Dad died two years ago). My dad died seeing me sober. That in itself is a gift. And a really love my work. I have a house, four cars, a summer house, boat and a normal amount of debt.

If I close my eyes and try really hard, I can almost imagine myself as a normal average family man. Not bad, huh? After 20 years, I guess I have accomplished a thing or two, clean or sober.