November 7, 2025

Tapping of tiny claws on the roof above my head. 

Have been asked to do an enrichment presentation on Dylan Tomas before the concert where we sing Corigliano’s “Fern Hill..” 

Visited DJ at his nursing facility. Found it fairly depressing. What to do to shorten the time? He’s still in pain. You’d think a hospital could at least manage pain. It felt insolent to be able to come and go. 

I’d ordered gummies, trying to find some that were not clearly placebos, as those bought at local shops seem to have been. They arrived Tuesday, and– my having experienced them as little more than placebos– I swallowed one down. It was a powerful and prolonged experience, but not a good one. I was stoned for a full day, and not all the effects were gone even last night. I literally could not walk. I handed myself into bed by grasping onto bits of furniture. Once in bed, I could not move except after long planning and sharp effort. Sleep was a flash flood of vivid, sometimes beautiful but often disappointingly silly images. Consciousness dived so deep I kept struggling out of it, supposing that what I was experiencing was how you die. I was truly and uncharacteristically frightened. I kept praying to survive the night because I had to take J and L to the airport in the morning. I did survive the night and did take them to the airport– without mentioning my condition, which was in full force yet and might rightfully have frightened them. That afternoon’s still a blur, rehearsal a blur, home a blur. I finally slept it off. Never did that to myself as a kid. To me it was not a pleasant or enriching experience. I kept murmuring “unfair,” because I’m old and all that should be past that and I hadn’t intended it. There should be limits on the penalty for mistakes. 

Exhaustion that I’m blaming on the gummy.