Street Weed

What does it mean when the universe pushes drugs on you?

For the second time in approximately one month, I stumbled on a large bag of very high-quality marijuana. While out in the world, just living my life, minding my own business.

No, I'm not kidding.

The first time this happened, Trent and I were walking down my street with our arms around each other, under an umbrella, trying to stay dry in the rain. We both stopped, right in time, a few paces short of my front porch. We both saw it. It looked like............

A piece of dog doo in a plastic baggy that someone had carelessly dropped on the sidewalk.

But we knew better. We picked it up, and YES! It was indeed a great big bud. All by its lonesome in the concrete sea.

Now, today, the exact same thing happened, only this time I spotted it in the grass (grass in the grass; I know, right?), walking up the hill into my office this morning.

Is the universe trying to tell me to chill out? Seriously -- what? I don't know anyone else who's found weed on the street ONCE, let alone twice...

I am either damn lucky, or I am damn well not getting the point.

Or perhaps it's just San Francisco. Perhaps there's just too much in circulation here, too much for people to keep track of. I mean, I've lived in some pretty weedy towns, but this one very well might take the cake.

In which case, I better go do my part to dispose of this surplus.