Dream or story? Can’t tell, doesn’t
matter, but the key point is an attempt, at least momentary, to kick the
bottle. Smash it on the sink! Unconscious wintertime drunks
freeze to death now and then, so waking up hungover in the snow is a fairly
serious moment. It’s golden enough if you survived, but man, that was close! If
dream, then there’s import in said dream: Wake up from the booze-sodden
nightmare of your waking, or wind up waking up dead in the snow. Your choice.
It’s not so simple for the addict, of course, since the whole problem with addiction
is that what seems a choice turns out not so freely chosen. Drives drive you.
You need your needs, you know. Close calls may confer a bit of supplemental motivation
for a time—long enough for some satisfactory bottle smashing?—though that seems
to always wear off, doesn’t it? Tough place to find oneself at any rate, dream
or actual.
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