Bennett juggles her belongings along the empty hallway and punches the up arrow to call the elevator, patting herself down as she waits to ensure that she is actually decent. She’d been so close to changing out of her conference clothes and spending the night belly up to the minibar with only the television and maybe a pizza for company. She taps her foot impatiently, the familiar shame and regret, always absent once she starts drinking, fully present now in the full light and sobriety of the morning after.

The doors ping open and thank god it's empty. She takes advantage of the mirrored doors and by the time she emerges onto her own floor she’s relatively put together. There is a bad moment at the door to her room when she can’t find her room key in her voluminous and overf...

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