began to fantasize about what I should be doing instead of going to
work: getting really, really stoned.
I'm not, like, a user. I can't remember with any precision the last
time first-hand smoke was in my lungs (if it has ever been. I can
neither confirm nor deny the possibility). Something about today,
though, with that blazing sun and dry, still air begged for utterly
This was my plan: get stoned. Not on anything, but on the strongest
possible hashish available. Go out of the house in shorts and t-shirt
(assuming such a thing were possible by this point) with a bag full of
Extra shirt and jeans (in case I do something sloppy)
Towel for sleeping in the park
Extra weed (not hash - that might entail paranoid fantasies of federal
time for a class one schedule controlled substance)
Then, go... Wherever.
I don't think I've ever had this fantasy before. Why today? Just a few
minutes ago I looked at the time: 4:20. 4:20 on 4/20 - the
international stoner holiday.
\t : iPhone->you