- The crazy cat lady won’t stop accosting you with her lunatic, spit-flying rants, and it takes you hours before you can politely extract yourself when she has you pinned to the wall with her desperate eye contact, because, hey, God must have chosen her as your sponsor for a reason. (Don’t forget to call her first thing in the morning, before you make any decisions.)
- You were rushed to the emergency room to be re-hydrated, from weeping through your drunkalog for the 21st time this week.
- Your group has numbered all the slogans, just to save time, and you laugh your ass off every time Burt says “Yeah, well, number 271.” (It’s all in the delivery.)
- Your car looks like this:
- You are grateful to the church for providing a basement where you can pray to your Higher Power, Ted Nugent.
- Hey, God wouldn’t have made you horny if He didn’t have a lesson in mind for that sweet piece of… uh… newcomer.
- You’re always driving around lost: You’re so comfortable with contradiction that you don’t know what to do when your GPS tells you to take a left. (But, it’s OK. God’s driving; and you’re exactly where you should be.)
- You have a poster of Bill W. on your wall, and his eyes follow you wherever you go.
- You made amends to someone who doesn’t even remember you, then made amends again for freaking him out, and then made amends again for holding a resentment against him because you were embarrassed, and then you reconciled the whole thing by telling yourself that it’s his problem and your side of the street is clean.
- You wake up one morning, and realize that you ARE the crazy cat lady.
Your turn!


