Sometimes we wondered aloud if ours was the right path. Weren’t we supposed to be building something of meaning? We were 29 years old, the same age my mother was when she had me. Lindsay talked about his father, who had moved all the way from Australia and started his own business. What had we done?
But then we’d go to the bar and just repeat what we’d done the night before.
—Sarah Hepola, Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget