Lighting Up by Susan Shapiro

Author:Susan Shapiro
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nonfiction
ISBN: 9780440335238
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2004-12-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

APRIL 1, 2003

10 A.M.: Woke up and wrote on calendar “D-Day,” then changed it to “No D-Day,” swearing that I was ready to stop my daily dope habit. Rifled through desk and threw out Zig-Zag and Bambú rolling papers, leftover roaches, two pipes, a minibong, and plastic Baggies. Proclaimed it would be easy since pot wasn’t physically addictive. Lit lilac-scented candle and watched flame flicker, feeling serene. Decided it was never about smoking, it was about being a pyromaniac. Found names and phone numbers of drug dealers in address book and whited them out with Liquid Paper. Turned page, noticing I could still read dealers’ numbers backward. Whited that page out too. Drank six diet sodas in a row. Cleaned apartment, paid bills, returned phone calls. Felt productive, wonderful, so happy to be drug-free.

11 A.M.: Ordered fruit salad, newspapers, and more diet soda from local deli. Ate fruit salad and drank two liters of diet soda from bottle. Opened wooden box from Jamaica to find half a joint left. Guessed it was stale. Sniffed longingly and considered eating it before tossing in garbage. Contemplated rummaging through garbage to find and smoke it. Took out trash filled with pot paraphernalia, tossing it down incinerator. Wondered if any of my dealers were listed.

12:30 P.M.: Read in the paper that, when asked if he’d inhaled pot, Mayor Bloomberg said, “You bet I did, and I enjoyed it.” Felt certain that Clinton did inhale while Bloomberg didn’t. Listed negative side effects of dope: depression, disorientation, dry mouth, munchies, anxiety, paranoia. Got paranoid I’d never be able to find dealers’ phone numbers again. Turned on Dylan CD. Turned off “Everybody Must Get Stoned.” Felt hungry. Lit another scented candle.

2 P.M.: Craved a joint though I’d never once toked so early in the day. Tried to work. Went to freezer and ate forty-calorie Smart Ones diet fudge bar. Ate another forty-calorie diet fudge bar, proud that my pig-out consisted of only eighty calories. Polished off box of ten Smart Ones diet fudge bars, adding up to four hundred calories, feeling stupid. Noted that everyone got munchies when they got high, I got munchies when I quit. Threw away hemostat brother gave me for roach clip. Drank more diet Coke. Wrote list of cool nicknames for dope: Hemp, Love Weed, Love Boat, Buddha Sticks, Blunts, Green Goddess, Wacky Tobaccy, Mary Jane, Black Gold, Magic Smoke, Ganja, Alice B. Toklas. Started to laugh hysterically. Started to cry.

5 P.M.: Went to take nap but couldn’t sleep from too much diet chocolate and diet soda. Looked up diseases medicinal marijuana eased: cancer, AIDS, arthritis, MS, epilepsy, and Alzheimer’s. Reminded myself I was lucky not to have cancer, AIDS, arthritis, MS, epilepsy, or Alzheimer’s as reason to keep toking. Promised myself if I ever got Alzheimer’s, I’d become senile pothead. Worried I wouldn’t remember promise. Recalled Dylan admitted to lifelong toking. Looked at recent picture of Dylan. Heard phone message from Claire. Realized she might have an extra joint, though I’d have to go to her place, at 102nd Street and Riverside.

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