I'm My Own Worst Enemy

Another drug test passed with flying colors! Now that I only had to take one test a week and never on the weekends, I am going to have no problem having a drink here and there. I fooled the drug court team so many times in the past, I have no doubt I can fool them again. They will never read Nancy's Literature Log at http://nkjennings.blogspot.com to catch my most current blog. Of course, my charismatic personality works every situation for me. I am going to make it through my probation this time because I have already spent two 90-day terms in prison and there is not going to be a third.

There goes my phone alarm, I need to call the drug testing hotline. Calling everyday is part of the program and stipulations of my probation. I have to submit to drug testing because of the drug court program. The various colors represent the stage of probation I have reached. I don't even know why I should call because I have already taken a test this week. The automated voice on the other end of the phone stated the colors for that days tests. His mundane voice said, "Teal, maroon, bronze and gold." You have to be kidding me, I thought, did he say gold?

Oh man, I better dial the number again to make sure I got it right. The voice repeated, "Teal, maroon, bronze, and gold." No, it couldn't be, I already took my test this week! I'm gold. Gold is only once a week. I know, I'll guzzle some water to flush the booze from my system.

I am driving to the drug testing center, I sure hope I don't pee. I feel like an overfilled water balloon. Is this what a woman feels like before she has an ultra sound? Sure glad I am a man. Well, here it goes, hope I drank enough water.

I made it to Friday and no phone calls yet. Just then my phone rang; it is my counselor, Ginger. Ginger and I had become good friends over the past several months. She has helped me so much, I hope I don't let her down. Okay, Ginger wants to talk to me before the weekly drug court session this afternoon. "Sure Ginger, I can meet you at the courthouse a little early." She must want to bounce some ideas for recovery off of me before presenting them to her other clients.

I began driving down Main Street to the courthouse. It makes me happy to think about how easy it is to fool the drug court team. Life is good. Ginger is on the front steps of the courthouse motioning for me to come sit with her on the bench. Now I am concerned, Ginger isn't her cheerful self. Her eyes are not smiling like they usually do. Oh I feel like a dinner bell just went off in my head as Ginger said, "Seth, your last drug test showed positive for alcohol."

My stomach fell to my knees. My smile faded away. "Seth, put your hands behind your back; you are being arrested for felony probation violation." It didn't take them long to search me and take my clothes away. Here I was again, entering the courtroom wearing an orange jumpsuit with shackled hands and feet. The sweat was pouring off my brow. The judge just said, “Seth, third strike buddy; you are out. Five years in the state prison. No possibility of parole.” I feel like someone just punched me in the stomach.