SA Weekend

So much substance abuse. Everyone must be getting their Memorial Day weekend binge on. Out of the patients I've worked with over the last couple days, only one has actually been nutty sick. From meth to alcohol to crack and opiates, all the rest have been substance abusers. (And if any current or future employers ever read this blog, please understand that social workers are entitled to ventilation too.) With that, I have this to say: addicts are some of the most entitled sons of bitches I have ever come across. Alcoholics get pissed off and just want to go drink, but addicts think that I need to give them what they want exactly when they want it as if the world revolves around them. What's that? You have no money, no insurance, and you can't leave the area because you're on probation. BUT, after a crack binge triggered by your girlfriend not having sex with you, you're going to expect me to send you to an inpatient SA treatment program here in town?? And then you're going to be a dick to me when I can't make that happen because I can't send you to Atlanta where there are work-for-treatment programs because you fucked up and got put on probation????? If my future kids ever use drugs, I will beat the high out of them. GAH. I'm hopeful for a waiting room full of schizophrenics tomorrow. My nerves are too frayed for anymore addicts.

With that, I don't have anything as profound to discuss as last night. Generally, I just needed to bitch about my job. I stayed an extra hour to get my last alcoholic out, which completely cleared out the brief observation I was responsible for, which means tomorrow's batch will be completely fresh. I came home just a few minutes before the torrential rain began and was able to run the dogs around and pick up the paper form the driveway just in time. I've been a sloth ever since. I blame the rain. And the addicts.