Smoking Too Much Pot
I’m really happiest when I am stoned. Happier. Nicer. Calmer. Lovelier. Everything …er.
I decided that I didn’t want to spend another minute in this world if I wasn’t stoned. (Not exactly, but kind of) Ha ha.
My doorbell rings early, it is Amanda.
“Darling, I have it all worked out.”
“Finally,” I say. “Do tell?”
“I’m willing to pay for you to go to drug rehab…”
“What?”
“To get you over your current problem?”
“What problem,” I say. “I don’t have a problem.” Yes, I heard it too, quite unfortunate. If only I had said nothing.
“Oh darling.” Amanda did her tinkly laugh, the one that says mother knows best and you have no idea. “I know it is a hard admission to make…”
“Seriously?
“Yes, darling.”
“Who the hell have you been talking to…”
“A mother knows, a mother know…”
“Who?” I say. “Tell me!”
“I told you a mother knows.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh Josh, you have just sorted your private life and your professional life,” said Amanda. “Don’t mess it up now.”
“What?”
“Nick says he is really worried about you, Josh…”
“Seriously, Nick? Did he tell you what we did last weekend?”
“Honey, your brother is telling me too.”
“OMG! Daniel can’t get his dick wet…”
“Josh!”
“And we all know Nick has the defective HR gotta-help-every-one-so-I-look-good gene…”
“Honey, it is only 12 weeks…”
“Stop it. I don’t have a problem.”
“Oh darling, they all say that…”
“Just stop it now, before this gets out of hand.”
“Darling, if you can’t do it for you, do it for me.”
“Mum, I don’t have a problem, nobody has a problem with dope.”
“Your brain is addled, clearly,” says Amanda. “You are barely making sense.”
“Mum, nobody has ever died from dope,” I say. “It is true.”
“You never do anything.”
“I work...”
“Three days,” she says dismissively.
“Yes.” Me working three days seems to upset an awful lot of people. So many people cannot understand why I don’t work 5 days. The truth is, and I don’t tell anyone this, I have been paid well, and I have invested that money in the stock market really well. It has all been good luck, not good judgement, let me assure you, but it has given me a good income on which I can live if I chose not to work, so good for me. I am as surprised as anybody else would be, if they knew. I don’t share this information with anybody, and, it would seem, it leaves people scratching their heads as to how I manage it. But, I digress. Back to Amanda.
“You are wasting your life.”
“I have a full time relationship.”
“It is such a shame.”
“It is not a shame, it is great.” My voice squeaks, even I hear it.
Amanda rolls her eyes, and exhales loudly.
“That nice boy Nick is really worried about you.”
OMG! Nick! “I will deal with Nick at another time,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Oh Josh, where are you going to be in ten years?”
“Happily married to Ben, living in the country with two bulldogs and some chooks.”
“You are kidding yourself.”
“No, I’m…” I hold my hands up in defeat. I didn’t want to talk about it after that. I couldn’t see where I was going to be in ten years. I stopped talking.
“Give it up for me, darling.”
“Tea?”
“At least think about it?”
“Would you like tea?”
“Yes, darling, tea would be lovely.”
“You are a nightmare sometimes, you know that don’t you.”
I turn and head to the kitchen.
“It’s only because I love you.”
Amanda follows.
“That expression doesn’t give you a licence to do and say anything…”
“Oh darling, that is where you are wrong.”
I press the button on the kettle.
“Are you trying to be funny now?”
“It’s all in the mother’s handbook…”
I reach into the cupboard and get two cups. “Your mother’s instinct is way off, missy.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, let me tell you something, Miss-play-golf-all-day, have not a fucking…”
“Josh!”
“You don’t have any stress in your life, dad looks after that for you…”
“That is borderline sexist…”
“You are free to swan about and giggle with your girlfriends, and take a powder when your favourite soap star has a bad day…”
“What television do I watch?”
“Nick’s life is empty and he gossips with you and tears me down because it makes him feel better.”
“He has a very important job?”
“Oh what, guiding spoilt wealthy women through their maternity leave showing them how to get money from the government they don’t need, or deserve…”
“Having a baby is a stressful time.”
“You are blind to the fact that it is your other son who needs you…”
“What do you mean?”
“Not me.”
“What is wrong with Daniel?”
“Ask him!”
The kettle boils. CLICK! I pick it up and pour water into the cups as if I am swilling them out in the sink.
“What is wrong with Daniel?” Amanda says again. “If there is something wrong you have to tell me.”
“Aha.” I can’t help but smile, as much as I try to stifle it my face cracks into a broad smile.
“Joshua, this is no laughing matter…”
“Ah, suddenly my few joints a day have completely slipped your mind.”
I decided that I didn’t want to spend another minute in this world if I wasn’t stoned. (Not exactly, but kind of) Ha ha.
My doorbell rings early, it is Amanda.
“Darling, I have it all worked out.”
“Finally,” I say. “Do tell?”
“I’m willing to pay for you to go to drug rehab…”
“What?”
“To get you over your current problem?”
“What problem,” I say. “I don’t have a problem.” Yes, I heard it too, quite unfortunate. If only I had said nothing.
“Oh darling.” Amanda did her tinkly laugh, the one that says mother knows best and you have no idea. “I know it is a hard admission to make…”
“Seriously?
“Yes, darling.”
“Who the hell have you been talking to…”
“A mother knows, a mother know…”
“Who?” I say. “Tell me!”
“I told you a mother knows.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh Josh, you have just sorted your private life and your professional life,” said Amanda. “Don’t mess it up now.”
“What?”
“Nick says he is really worried about you, Josh…”
“Seriously, Nick? Did he tell you what we did last weekend?”
“Honey, your brother is telling me too.”
“OMG! Daniel can’t get his dick wet…”
“Josh!”
“And we all know Nick has the defective HR gotta-help-every-one-so-I-look-good gene…”
“Honey, it is only 12 weeks…”
“Stop it. I don’t have a problem.”
“Oh darling, they all say that…”
“Just stop it now, before this gets out of hand.”
“Darling, if you can’t do it for you, do it for me.”
“Mum, I don’t have a problem, nobody has a problem with dope.”
“Your brain is addled, clearly,” says Amanda. “You are barely making sense.”
“Mum, nobody has ever died from dope,” I say. “It is true.”
“You never do anything.”
“I work...”
“Three days,” she says dismissively.
“Yes.” Me working three days seems to upset an awful lot of people. So many people cannot understand why I don’t work 5 days. The truth is, and I don’t tell anyone this, I have been paid well, and I have invested that money in the stock market really well. It has all been good luck, not good judgement, let me assure you, but it has given me a good income on which I can live if I chose not to work, so good for me. I am as surprised as anybody else would be, if they knew. I don’t share this information with anybody, and, it would seem, it leaves people scratching their heads as to how I manage it. But, I digress. Back to Amanda.
“You are wasting your life.”
“I have a full time relationship.”
“It is such a shame.”
“It is not a shame, it is great.” My voice squeaks, even I hear it.
Amanda rolls her eyes, and exhales loudly.
“That nice boy Nick is really worried about you.”
OMG! Nick! “I will deal with Nick at another time,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Oh Josh, where are you going to be in ten years?”
“Happily married to Ben, living in the country with two bulldogs and some chooks.”
“You are kidding yourself.”
“No, I’m…” I hold my hands up in defeat. I didn’t want to talk about it after that. I couldn’t see where I was going to be in ten years. I stopped talking.
“Give it up for me, darling.”
“Tea?”
“At least think about it?”
“Would you like tea?”
“Yes, darling, tea would be lovely.”
“You are a nightmare sometimes, you know that don’t you.”
I turn and head to the kitchen.
“It’s only because I love you.”
Amanda follows.
“That expression doesn’t give you a licence to do and say anything…”
“Oh darling, that is where you are wrong.”
I press the button on the kettle.
“Are you trying to be funny now?”
“It’s all in the mother’s handbook…”
I reach into the cupboard and get two cups. “Your mother’s instinct is way off, missy.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Well, let me tell you something, Miss-play-golf-all-day, have not a fucking…”
“Josh!”
“You don’t have any stress in your life, dad looks after that for you…”
“That is borderline sexist…”
“You are free to swan about and giggle with your girlfriends, and take a powder when your favourite soap star has a bad day…”
“What television do I watch?”
“Nick’s life is empty and he gossips with you and tears me down because it makes him feel better.”
“He has a very important job?”
“Oh what, guiding spoilt wealthy women through their maternity leave showing them how to get money from the government they don’t need, or deserve…”
“Having a baby is a stressful time.”
“You are blind to the fact that it is your other son who needs you…”
“What do you mean?”
“Not me.”
“What is wrong with Daniel?”
“Ask him!”
The kettle boils. CLICK! I pick it up and pour water into the cups as if I am swilling them out in the sink.
“What is wrong with Daniel?” Amanda says again. “If there is something wrong you have to tell me.”
“Aha.” I can’t help but smile, as much as I try to stifle it my face cracks into a broad smile.
“Joshua, this is no laughing matter…”
“Ah, suddenly my few joints a day have completely slipped your mind.”
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