You want to recover, kind of. It’s just that the pills and the endless sessions of talking seem like a lot more work than just accepting that you’re a young woman who enjoys using her Fred Meyer Rewards Card a bit too much.
But just try telling that to your parents! Your mother weeps when she thinks of your relentless pursuit of bargains, your endless search for clearance items and meaningless free food. And your father took your plastic devil, his words not ours, and snapped it over his knee just to make sure you knew what was up. It was less over his knee and more in his hands, and we all know you can just score a new one at any FM you feel like hitting up for a quick fix, but you get the point.
You’re not going to find any support from those Regan-naut twats (Reagotwats?). And Shady Acres' steady pressure on you to stay in the middle is making you feel dead inside. So tonight it’s time to make a bedsheet rope, perform oral sex on your hot heroin addicted roomie one last time in the confines of the room where your love was born and hop out the window, over the picket fence and to freedom.
Three weeks will already have been far too long for you to be away from your precious savings, no matter how hot and desperate the trim was. And with your new girlfriend you’re going to need those savings since keeping your lady love in heroin is going to eat up a lot of cash.
Congratulations on Getting Halfway Through Rehab!
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