"Do I need to be worried about your drinking?" The therapist asks.
"No," I reply.
A couple of shots never killed anyone. Joseph is driving me nuts. His nervousness is palatable through his emails and calls.
It's only dinner. My uncle is an alcoholic, so he'll just sit and drink. My grandmother will probably be the sole one who will talk to him, short of my parents.
Me? I'm thinking of getting drunk--or close to it.
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