By Denise Asher
It’s hard to be a trial lawyer when you’re hung over all the time. Or wondering how soon you can get finished with that discovery/pleading/deposition/trial day so you can get something — or rather a whole lot of something — to drink. But that’s precisely the life I endured and finally escaped on my birthday: February 27, 2001. Not my belly-button birthday, of course. My sobriety birthday. The first day of a life filled with miracles since I learned how to stop drinking, one day at a time.