[right][h2]One Week Later[/h2][hr][hr][/right]


Amanda was just coming back from a jog, He week had been hectic. Work had picked up for a busy season, and she had taken to working out again. She had went back to Dotty's bar a few days later, but kept herself in check. To be fair, she was smoking a bunch more these days. She apparently had said some embarrassing things the night of her lapse in control. She was actually kind of glad she couldn't remember much about the officer who had taken her in. 

She stopped by the mailroom at her apartment, and picked up the stack of mail. "Who even sends mail anymore?" She said with a soft laugh, that quickly faded as she saw the top letter. It was a court order, for some group therapy. She groaned softly, reading that she was expected at her first meeting this afternoon.

She tossed the rest of the letters onto her kitchen table, and started to pull off her workout clothes on the way to the shower. She turned the knob for hot water, "Group therapy... Like it really want to air my dirty laundry to a room of strangers." She sighed softly, letting the warm water relax her tense muscles. She knew that therapy was probably something she should have been going to for awhile, if she had been doing it... maybe she could have even avoided this situation.

After her shower, she dried off slipping on a pair of cotton shorts making her way to the couch. Her hair wrapped up in a towel, and not bothering with a shirt. She flopped down onto the couch, she fished the bag from the drawer. She was glad she kept these pre-rolls handy. 

An hour or so later, and two finished blunts in her ashtray... she stood from the couch, "What does one even wear to group therapy?" She asked with a chuckle. She still wasn't happy about having to go, but she was at least in a better mood now. She pulled a soft yellow sundress from her closet, it was decorated with sunflowers. She found some wicker slides, and pulled her hair into a pony tail. 

She set up an uber, and had another blunt while she waited. She couldn't curb her nerves though. When she arrived at the address, she wished she had stopped for a coffee. As the third smoke, was really making her a bit drowsy. Wouldn't that be a good first impression if she fell asleep in her first meeting. She didn't look anyone in the eyes, and kind of avoided joining any of the small groups of people waiting for the meeting to start. Gods, she wanted a drink... Something to bite away the nervous jitters she had, as well as balance out this embarrassment she was feeling.