I was in a rather large house somewhere in the country. I appeared to be in a room of the fixed-up basement. As I talked with a thin short-haired fellow (perhaps 30 years old), I quickly realized he dealt marijuana on a rather large scale. Although I had never met him before, we quickly took to each other and were soon discussing his business. I was impressed that he sold marijuana in large quantities, but at the same time, I was rather disappointed in him that he would be wasting his life doing that. I told him that he could have been anything he wanted and that it still wasn't too late. He could go to college and become anything. But he didn't seem interested. Instead he spoke about how much money he was making. He said that about a couple years ago he had gone from $200,000 to $350,000 in just 10 days. I interpolated that by now he must have millions of dollars.

Several other people were also in the room; some seemed to be working on preparing some new marijuana which the fellow had acquired. I finally noticed someone had lit up a joint and I saw three people standing next to each other smoking it. I walked over to them, anxious to smoke some myself. Another rather squat woman followed me. After all three of them had smoked, the third person started to hand the joint back to the first person. I interrupted and asked him to give it to me. He did and I took an extremely long drag off it. I wanted to pump as much smoke as I could into my lungs. When I was finished, I noticed the paper from the joint was stuck to my lips and was difficult to pull away. But I did so and I handed the joint to the woman who had followed me, who was obviously anxious to smoke some, too.

I then began daydreaming about what would happen if the police were to come. I imagined I might go up into the attic and try to hide. I might find some insulation between the rafters and hide under it. Or if the insulation was cellulose, I might crawl into it and cover myself. Or I might climb out onto the roof and sit on top of a gable. Perhaps I might even take some marijuana with me. I might be able to carry as much as 50 pounds. If I could get away with that, I could sell the marijuana later and become rich. If there was a tree overhanging the roof, I could climb up into the branches and hide. I could wait until the police left, then come down. Or if other trees were nearby I might even be able to climb to another tree and get out of sight. I could then drop to the ground and escape through the woods.

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