22 years, and I forgot that, too

Just as I forgot that dad would have been 90 this year (although I did not forget mom's 90th a year ago), I forgot my sobriety anniversary for a week or so since it passed.

I don't think there's any big deal to it (although others might think otherwise), but forget I did.

Rather, as I type, I see three other angles.

One is that coronavirus-related additional busyness at work has just burdened my mind in general.

Maybe because it's not a "milestone" anniversary like my 20th, is another reason.

The third is that I'm not the same person I was years ago. I define myself less in terms of being a "sobrietist," per the term many in Lifering use (and also less in terms of being an abuse survivor) and more in terms of someone who, being past a certain age, and counting the clock just from the start of adulthood, is officially in middle age, and has the worries of middle age in general, and some additional ones particular to Merika and to my career at this time.

I also have one other issue, or thought, related to that.

I saw in the latest Johnnie Reporter that Bruce Klassen died. Now, if Bruce still had his Winfield weight problems, he wasn't the healthiest of persons by any means. That still doesn't make it nicer.