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The Michigan Man and I are back into a routine. I got a job at a Drug Treatment Center as a secretary after school, and it's nothing but fodder for my inner monologue. Typically, I smoke a joint on the ride home from classes, but since I started this job, I smoke half on the way to work, and half on my way home. Everytime the addicts come to me to check out the bathroom key (did I mention it was a residential treatment center?), I get all paranoid and start shifting in my seat. I think, "They know! They smell it. Oh my god, are my eyes bloodshot? Am I using the word 'intense' too much?" I love classes, and I really enjoy this job, I just wonder if I belong there myself. Or, more accurately, these Counseling and Drug Awareneess classes are starting to get to me. 11:52 p.m. - 2009-09-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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