A Handful of Money

A Handful of Money

I am at some sort of conference on scientific topics with workshops, movies etc.  We discover in a back room that was not announced where I or anyone else heard it some food which is very poorly organized and mostly stuff I can't eat.  There are baked beans and bean salads etc, but I find a box with some sandwich meat and bread that wasn't put out on the plates because there hadn't been room (meanwhile, what was put out is gone) and am able to make myself a sandwich (but with a white bread roll).  I am with Keith, and have already participated in a number of activities and programs.  There is a program tonight, and it comes free with something else, but not with the program I paid for.  Keith and I are in another small building now, trying to make some other arrangements when I see a display tray of tickets and cards and metal buttons for the various events and no one is there guarding it.  Several other people help themselves to tickets.  I pick up a card that is good for several events, but that feels wrong to me, and I put it back.  I am about to approach one of the workers at another table and explain that I was supposed to get a free program with another program I attended when I realize I have already had my free program last night.  So I got to Keith and tell him I want to attend tonight's program and he gives me some money.  I am headed over to buy the ticket legally (morally) when I wake up. 

I can still feel the money in my hand when I wake up and have to rub my fingers together to double check that there is not actually any money in my hands.  I am very relieved when I wake up that I did not steal the tickets card.  I don't want to be dishonest, but then it occurs to me that there are still other ways that I am.  This makes me feel heavy and sad.