At work in real life, they gave us a written notice about how they can ask us to get drug tested or search for drugs on our desks and stuff. I signed it and turned it in, it will be absolutely no problem for me. I've never been high, never tried any illegal drug, never been drunk, and don't even smoke. As for marijuana, I hate the way it smells beyond description. I have no problem with a drug test.
In the dream everything fell apart.
Bree was using medical marijuana. Often I told her it smelled awful and to please take it to the bathroom and close the door and turn the fan on, since those were the rules. But of course sometimes the smell still comes into the house. And I started to worry; will this affect my drug test? When I told our administrative assistant at work sarcastically and teasingly that "I have a real problem with this rule," and she said, "Yeah, alcohol is a problem in my family too," and completely missed my point that it will be no problem at all for me, was that because some days she thought she smelled marijuana on me and suspected me.
So I came in and one day, they were searching my desk. But when I walked in, they all acted guilty and wouldn't admit that's what they'd been doing. Even though the entire office was there watching, like it was amusing entertainment. But none of them would tell me what was going on. Then one of them took out a sensor and moved it around the desk, claiming he was checking for cell phone coverage, which was, for real (for real in the dream that is) very low around the vicinity of my desk. I realized I had a problem.
I was trying to remember in the dream, did I ever mention to my ex-roommate from rich-family-spoiled-educated-arrogant-hell that my sister used medical marijuana. This girl is very very ambitious and will scratch and claw her way into positions and even try to get others laid off to get there. If I had told her about my sister Bree with marijuana, she might very well spread the rumor around that I used it. No wonder I was the first person they suspected! They probably even handed out the notices at work specifically because of me! They probably thought I was so tired not because of a minor sickness, but because of drugs! I got frustrated that day not because my coworker was yelling at me unfairly, but because of drugs! I smelled of drugs! And no wonder I am always eating and eating and eating at work. No one would believe it was because I didn't eat much while actually at home. Everyone knew all about me! In their eyes, I was a druggie!
Of course I knew they'd ask me to get a drug test. So I decided to test it, because I was suddenly terrified about secondhand marijuana smoke and what it would do in the testing phase. I went to a small set up outside of the grocery store where they did free sample testing for drugs. Why not, right? I took it. My score was 79. The limit was 90. 341 or something like that would mean you'd been doing lots of drugs. It was one of the limits. But if you reached 90, you were considered positive for the drug test. So I was not at 90, but still kind of high. Clearly the secondhand smoke had an affect.
So I headed off to see Bree and let her know she just had to be more careful around me, or I could get fired from my job! Because how could I prove I did no drugs? No one would believe it was my legally medical marijuana family member, because of the gossip and rumors spread by the evil coworker. So she just had to be careful. I went to talk to her about it, at the top of the hill, and she just got angry at me. She used a few puffs right then and there on some funky hooka machine/asthma treatment machine and just looked at me and told me, "You can't even smell it right now!" which was true. She did that three or four times. I finally just left, horrified, and decided I just had to avoid her. I did want to see if that had had any affect on me though.
So I headed back to the test table at the grocery store. I took the test again. Sure enough, now the score was 86. Definitely higher. Definitely dangerously close to 90. I was horrified to learn that the secondhand smoke ruined my testing chances, even when I couldn't smell it. And that Bree didn't care and would not be careful for me. And then I noticed the testing table workers up to something. They informed me that when someone is as high as 86, even though it's not 90, it's close enough to merit closer testing and that they were obligated to call the police, who were now on their way to arrest me.
Now I would definitely get fired. How could I ever convince them I did not do drugs if it all went so far as to get me arrested by the police?? I was so mad. Funny how I never would dream of doing any drugs, but they made that new drug test policy at work specifically in regards to me, and now I was getting arrested! I was only trying to see what would happen if I took a real drug test! Now these little test table folks were getting me to go to jail for drugs I never actually did!
I kept reminding myself that when I woke up, I just had to look into secondhand marijuana smoke, because probably they did smell it on me in real life and probably it was made for me, and probably that's why the administrative assistant misunderstood my joke! Now that I'm awake, I'm definitely not worried. But man, I told myself to remember. I was quite worried.
I also had a dream in a department store. I hate department stores. I was there with my mom. This store, to all horror, had not one or two levels, but three! I was glancing around for the dresses, never did really find them. I think I had to sneak to another level and turn on the light. Anyway, I was also searching frantically for a new bed spread, and looking through all the cheap ones on clearance. Most of them were quilts, which was sad. Or they were for bigger beds than mine. There was an adventure going on around all of this. Unfortunately I seem to have forgotten it. Stuff in the dark rooms of the big department store.
I remember that there were two dreams I really wanted to remember. The first was the secondhand marijuana problems. But that ended when I woke up and visited the bathroom. Then I went back to bed and I had another plot-filled dream, and wanted to remember it. But when I got to the waking point of "wake now and remember this, or sleep in and probably forget it," I really wanted to sleep in. It's like too little and too much sleep can both make me forget the dream, and I have a point where I can make that choice to wake up or not, depending on how much I want to record it. I decided today to take my chances. And I remembered one of two, so not too bad.
No comments:
Post a Comment