Read Recovering for Free Online

brain is running as fast as a roided-out, supremely pissed hamster
on a wheel. After half an hour I give up on the energy flow and drown my
sorrows the old-fashioned way, with the rest of the beer in the fridge and then
the bottle of Jack I keep hidden in the back of my closet.
     It doesn’t
take much alcohol anymore before things start feeling better and the room
decides to sway, but I figure it won’t hurt anything to keep piling on the
shots. Somewhere along the way it becomes a great idea to strip down to my
boxers and sing the songs on my angel hunting soundtracks at the top of my
lungs. I holler out Highway to Hell, This is the Danger Zone, and Going
the Distance , among other classics and impress the hell out of my action
figures with my mad dance moves . I’m pretty sure they start cheering at
some point.
      Later on, after the dancing, Sir
Hopsalot and I have a really powerful bro sesh. I basically pour my heart out
to him, and he is just the best listener in the world. Hands-down. Doesn’t
judge, doesn’t talk over me, doesn’t tell me to drink a protein shake. Together
we decide that it is imperative that we follow Maya in the morning and get in
on the mission despite her command. What can they do once I’m already there?
     It all seems
to make perfect, beautiful sense until I wake up the next morning on the floor
still a little drunk but mostly hung over so bad I can hardly move. Then I
remember how pathetic I am and why Maya and Tarren want me nowhere near a gun.
     Life is such
a suckfest sometimes.
    ***
     Sometime in
the afternoon, I finally sign into World of Warcraft, which I haven’t
done since I went down for the count with the whole coma shindig. My Level 80 Rogue,
Apollo, has probably started gnawing off his own leg in boredom.
    Over the
years, I’ve developed some pretty tight friendships within the game, and my peeps
often let me drop into their guilds and fight the good fight even though I’m
just a part timer. I’ve practically been a ghost since last year when the angels
hit their Baby Boom and the whole secret-sister-got-turned-into-a-hybrid-angel-whoopsie-daisy
bombshell fell. My WOW buddies have all abandoned me by now, so I just walk
around and kill a few things on my own and pick up a mission or two that I’ll
probably never complete. Then, a little message pops up, alerting me that
WildStarz2346 is on.
     She and I
originally met on SecondLife a couple of years back, but the show is so over on
that site. I brought her over to WOW, and by the looks of her Night Elf Druid, she’s
not doing too bad for herself. Gotta love a girl with big…balance mojo. I find
her avatar and look at those long locks of red hair and svelte figure wrapped
in leather and knee-high boots. 
     I realize
that I want to see her. Not just in the game. I greet her the way I always do.
      You got a
boyfriend yet?
     L ong pause on the other end, and I try
to remember the last time I dropped in at her place. It’s been, crap-ola ,
since before we rescued Maya. I guess in the real world that might come off as
a cold shoulder.
      Just you , she writes back.
     Bingo,
Yhatzee and Connect Four!
    Mind if I come over? Might as well get to the point.
     Another
pause. Me feeling more guilty about stagging her for so long.
     I’ve missed you , she finally
writes .
     Me too. I can explain. I’ll be over tonight then.
      Bring some
whipped cream . WildStarz
can be a flirt. Must be those big blue eyes and pointed elf ears. Amanda, the
girl behind the elf, is shy as can be. Sweet though. Real sweet.  
     Conveniently,
I’m already packed. I shoulder my duffle bag, as is, and get Sir Hopsalot back
into his carrying case. I put everything into the front seat of Bubba, my Ford
F-150 and give the hood a nice slap for good luck. Bubba’s getting on in years,
and he’s lost a little paint on various misadventures, but the son-of-a-bitch
hasn’t let me down yet. As I pull out of the garage, I take a moment to look