I woke up half drunk.
My breath could start a fire
If I stood too close to a flame.
I stumbled awkwardly over area rugs
Navigating dog toys and household debris like land mines.
I bathed in coffee and cornbread,
Haphazardly washing the previous night out of me.
I went to work in the clothes I was in,
Hoping no one would notice I slept in them.
I threw up on my keyboard
And fell out of my chair onto the office floor.
I was never this person,
So tightly wound I could never tolerate the thought
of letting anyone down, let alone myself,
But these days I am looser, calmer, more relaxed.
Instead of going into a panic,
I left the vomit on my keyboard and no one seemed to notice.
“Welcome to the club,” said their silence,
“You are forgiven.”