420 Summit

Gettin' grouchy

I damn near broke a desk, pounding my fist in frustration, over a silly little ad. All I wanted to do was research a host on a popular forum and I simply could not search for it. Each time I would click the search box that stupid little ad would fly open. I’d click to close, try again and it would fly open again. It made me fucking nuts. A little ad on the web should not make me this angry. And I was angry.

I couldn’t do what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it.

Eventually, I had to step away and take a good look at what was really going on — what it boils down to is: I want to use. Something. Anything. Just so long as there is plenty of it.

I spend mornings cleaning up a local park before the day camp kids arrive and it is far from unusual to find remnants of the previous nights activities. Baggie corners, syringes, used condoms, filthy clothing, whatever. It’s why we clean it. Today I found a little bit of weed. I picked up the baggie and tossed it in the trash. Then I figured some kid might see it and took it back out for later “disposal”. Oddly enough, I failed to mention my discovery to any of the other people with me. So, now I have weed.

In retrospect, not a great plan for someone who has absolutely no business having any drug anywhere near him.

I bullied a stranger in the street. Some guy asked me for a cigarette — a harmless little tweaker — so I handed him my pack. Then he asked if he could take a few. I said no. He whined and I gave him a hard time. A really hard time. I’m ready to fight this guy over a few cigarettes when I should have given him the whole damn pack. It would have made his day and saved my lungs some wear and tear. I’ll be buying more soon enough.

I turned my phone off, so I could “work” in peace. Actually, I turned my phone off so nobody could ask me for anything and I could ignore my responsibilities. Or, God forbid, ask how I was.

I spilled coffee on the floor in a public space and rather than cleaning it up, I glanced over at the maintenance guy and told myself that he gets paid to do it. Let him do his job and clean up after me.

These are all little things, but they add up into a big pile of shit. My actions reflect my attitude and this constant vigilance thing is no joke. Now, I have to humble myself — I’ve started by ratting myself out — and ask for help. Unfortunately, humility isn’t one of my strong suits.

No, I didn’t smoke the weed. I wanted to, but flushed it away before I could talk myself into it.