how high
i dreamed this morning, just before the alarm went off, that i was high. i was at school, had an exam, and i was late for my brother-in-law's wedding, and i was high. my academic archnemesis said to me incredulously, as i picked up my exam, "you're high!" and i said, "whatever. you must be high," and wondered off to find a seat to finish my exam, but i could never find one, so i dropped my exam and my books and my coat on a table in the cafeteria and went to the restroom, and as i sat down, i splattered a little blood - not too much, but then as i peed, the urine that leaked from the toilet picked up the splatters and pooled them into a bloody mess at my feet, and i knew that it was over, so i figured i better get to the wedding. i wrote justin a note that he needed to hurry, because it was already 10:65, and then i realized i was high, because i called it 10:65 instead of 11:05, and i ran toward the church.
i have never been high. drunk, yes, more times than was healthy in my 20s - not that it's ever healthy, i suppose, but still, with alarming frequency. but i have never used weed or pills or powders or shot up or anything. i never wanted to give up the control i thought it necessitated. i stopped dating two different guys after i learned they were regular weed smokers. i thought it pathetic that someone in their 30s (when i was in my 20s) needed to rely on something so adolescent.
and then suddenly, at age 36, getting high seems entirely reasonable.
high seems like a fabulous idea. i suppose i do sort of get high, a little, twice a day for about ten minutes, when the buspar first kicks in and i float on waves of orgasmic bliss. but it only lasts for 20, 30 minutes tops, per day. i'd like to be high all the time right now. i'd like to be high through my visit to my sister, who is not handling the ms diagnosis well, this weekend. i'd like to be high through my next visit to my dying bastard of a father. i'd like to be high through the work day all the fucking time. i'd like to be high through the ultrasound in an hour and 10 minutes from now, if the news is bad. and if the news is good, i'd like to just be high for the rest of the pregnancy.
if only.
i have never been high. drunk, yes, more times than was healthy in my 20s - not that it's ever healthy, i suppose, but still, with alarming frequency. but i have never used weed or pills or powders or shot up or anything. i never wanted to give up the control i thought it necessitated. i stopped dating two different guys after i learned they were regular weed smokers. i thought it pathetic that someone in their 30s (when i was in my 20s) needed to rely on something so adolescent.
and then suddenly, at age 36, getting high seems entirely reasonable.
high seems like a fabulous idea. i suppose i do sort of get high, a little, twice a day for about ten minutes, when the buspar first kicks in and i float on waves of orgasmic bliss. but it only lasts for 20, 30 minutes tops, per day. i'd like to be high all the time right now. i'd like to be high through my visit to my sister, who is not handling the ms diagnosis well, this weekend. i'd like to be high through my next visit to my dying bastard of a father. i'd like to be high through the work day all the fucking time. i'd like to be high through the ultrasound in an hour and 10 minutes from now, if the news is bad. and if the news is good, i'd like to just be high for the rest of the pregnancy.
if only.
posted by laura at 8:38 AM
1 Comments:
I shouldn't admit to this, since I don't want to sound like a big old burnout loser, but after Julian died, someone gave DH a few joints. It was GREAT! When it was gone, we decided that anything that good has to be a bad idea, so we stuck with wine and Ambien instead. Those were the days. Now I have to rely on acupuncture for any kind of high.
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