There once was a process, recorded;
the blogger unnamed, but not sordid.
And since sometimes her work
Involved dealing with jerks
Those social work stories she hoarded.
While writing her tales of frustration
She found a surprising relation:
She felt things were all right
More oft when she’d write,
Like each post brought on relaxation.
I’m sure that you won’t find it shocking
To discover the source of this squawking,
For the blogger is me.
Yes, it’s true; I am she!
Now you know, let’s get on with this mocking.
It’s September, which means back to school
And while ending the summer seems cruel,
My new clients await
Though I’m somewhat afraid
I’ve lost track of my clinical tools.
Perhaps I dropped a skill by the sea
Or let one loose while climbing a tree.
Whatever the case
There’s no time to waste,
So it’s back to social work for me.