Not one of those hours was spent wasted drinking at a bar, being drunk, or hung over. I didn't make any trips to the emergency room. I didn't spend any nights in jail. I didn't waste one hour in court. I haven't wasted an entire day sleeping it off and feeling miserable because of drinking the night before.
My nightstand served as a holding tank for the turquoise kidney shaped throw-up trays I'd need over five years of chemo. It converted to a trashcan for all of the Kleenex used to wipe the vomit off my face. It displayed fish tanks, terrariums and cool lamps. It housed the first love letter I ever received. When I moved away from home, my nightstand naturally came with me.