Excerpt from Poker, Dice Games & Racehorses:
Nine years ago, during a Christmas party with work colleagues, I drank enough that I couldn’t walk straight. Hours before the party had ended, before it had even moved to a second location, I stumbled and fell into a table, knocking over drinks into the laps of my boss, my colleagues, and their spouses.
The next day, my husband told me, “Our daughter is not being raised by an alcoholic.”
Much to my delight, what started as a blog post here ended up being published on one of my favorite literary sites. You can read the rest of my essay at: The Manifest Station.