I went to the ASAP (Alcohol & Substance Abuse Program) building today for my appointment and evaluation. I'm an at-risk type fellow, so I get to have all sorts of fun being enrolled in their program. I guess its not AA or anything, but an educational program to set dumbtards like me straight.
They do a good job of really neutering you with kindness in there. I almost forgot that I was only there because I'm underage, and had I been a few months older, the MP would have been more inclined to send me on my way (on foot) and apologize for bringing my buzz down. Still, I suppose it'll be good for me, because I don't usually drink casually, but passionately, with unyielding motivation and overall love of the game.
So I have to go to a few sessions at the center itself, plus sit in on 2 to 3 AA sessions. Now if that were all there was to it, I'd be tapdancing and singing show tunes right now. But the Article 15 monster is still lurking in a stack of paperwork, yawning and stretching, wiping the sleep out of its eyes and licking its chops. Waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce suddenly in a cascading flurry of paper, attach itself to my face like those pink bastards from "Aliens" and suck the life out of me, leaving me a hollow shell of a man whose purpose is to cut grass, pull weeds, mow lawns, mop floors, and god knows what else. And then life will go on.