By Tuesday evening of this week, I was already totally overwhelmed-- I got up early both Monday and Tuesday morning to work on a new episode of the podcast; then I went and played early morning sports; my classroom A/C broke and I was invaded by wasps; Back-to-School-Night was looming and I knew my Thursday night was going to be long and annoying; Friday afternoon I was planning on driving to Muhlenberg and back, to pick up my son because my brother is getting married this weekend; I had to print out emergence sub-plans, figure out the dual enrollment college credit stuff for my classes, plan for four preps, figure out this new Rutgers assignment . . . but then I figured out the solution to my anxiety: I had a cold beer while I was cooking dinner (Catherine was working) and I went out on the porch and smoked a bit of the pre-rolled joint inside the little plastic container (which is labelled Jungle Boys . . . ZkittlezCake) that the gas station attendant handed me when I got some gas over the summer-- I was like: "What's this?" and the attendant said it was in the well next to the gas cap, under the lid-- which was odd-- but I solved the mystery when I talked to my son, who said it was his friend's joint and his friend didn't want it to smell up the van-- which was very considerate-- so he stashed it next to the gas cap (and then forgot about it, of course) and so I put on "Shadrach" and put it to good use.
Happy wedding to Marc
ReplyDelete“It’s not mine, it’s my friend’s!” is a novel answer to a parent’s question “Where did you get this joint from?”
ReplyDeleteit's best to just believe these kinds of statements, without questions . . .
ReplyDelete