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The 'Rents caught me When I was Stoned for the Superbowl before/after
I changed my wake up station last night, randomly thumbing to a new station. I have no clue what it was. Still don't. It was a lot of talking in hushed tones, which in my half awake/half asleep state gave me a flashed dream of my mother sitting next to my bed, speaking in controlled, deliberate hushed tones while I was in a hospital bed, hospitalized due to getting high, and being stuck there, never coming down.
Which is amusing to me. About the second or third time I got stoned, and again the second or third time I tripped, I had a flash of anxiety that I had gotten high, and would be stuck in that state, presumably for the rest of my life.
And the tone of voice, well that's straight out of reality. I have always made a point of being in the lap of excess during the annual testosterone right known as the "Superbowl". I love football, and usually tie one on pretty harshly for the game (or eat a shit-ton, or both).
Anyway, one year, my folks drove to Chicago to visit my brother during that weekend. I was still in college. So they just "happened" to stop by while I was titanically stoned. I got the news from my friend's girlfriend there were, "people" going through my stuff in my room.
Normally, this would provoke a confrontational stance from me, and I would go and confront, most likely beating ass should I not know who these "people" were. I knew instantly who it was, and from the sinking feeling in my stomach, I knew this would be a stone bummer.
So I dropped in some Visine, which was pathetic, because my eyes were so glazed and bloodshot, nothing would get the red out.
I was in no shape for any sort of rationale, coherent conversation.
To my credit, I lasted longer than I thought I would w/o them noticing, but it became way too apparent to all involved when I had trouble carrying a conversation, and responded to most everything said to me with, "...yeah... that's cool."
mom:"So let me know how it goes, huh?"
me(absolutely power-baked):"Yeah...sure...tha-"
mom:"Wait, let me guess, that's cool, right?"
me:(absolutely power-baked)"Sure...Pretty much."
mom:"uh-huh."
They didn't stay long.
GOOD NEWS!:
Speaking of my folks, I got some email today from the 'rents. Dad is taking prozac, and this has really helped him out, in more ways than one. It has "cured" his depression about his MS and this releif from depression has eased some of the worsening symptoms. They say they can't believe how well he is doing, AND they will wait a month or so on chemotherapy to see how his symptoms respond to the current treatment he is recieving. Supposedly the change in Dad is remarkable, which is not difficult to believe. Normally the terms taciturn and curmudgeon come to mind, wheras Prozac makes you "chatty".
Its welcome to get good news from home for a change.
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