I Went To A Dispensary

The perception of weed is funny to me; people are all over the map with it. Some people still think it’s mysterious and naughty and riddled with danger. Some people, like myself, have spent the better part of their life being curious yet unwilling to try it because until recently it’s been illegal…and, God forbid we so much as considered breaking a rule. And, some people have used it so much at different points in their life that the whole “introduction” of it to the general population is borderline ridiculous.

I think I subconsciously used this shoulder surgery as an excuse to put my big girl panties on and drive my own vehicle up to a dispensary, in pure daylight on a Tuesday on the way home from the gym (withOUT my kids, thank you very much), and purchase our own weed. 

The last time I had this shoulder surgery, the worst thing, by far, was the difficulty I had with sleeping. I was probably averaging 3-4 hours of sleep a night, falling asleep at red lights and drive up bank teller windows, and spending most of the night binge watching Netflix shows to try and keep myself distracted from the pain in my shoulder.

After hearing so much from friends about how helpful certain kinds of edibles have been for sleeping at night, I decided to try and figure out something for my sleep tool belt in case that happened to me with this surgery, too.

That, however, doesn’t explain why I purchased edibles that were “for fun on a Saturday night, too”…which is what I asked for after the dispensary employee asked me if the sleepy time edibles was all I needed for that visit.

When I got back in my car, I’ll admit my guilty conscience was suffocating me. I talked myself out of it by reminding myself that it was totally legal, plenty of intelligent and kind people I know use them regularly, and that I was going to be very conscious and responsible about how I used them.

Needless to say, I have this super irrational need to admit to whoever I am most nervous about finding out a secret of mine, hunting them down, and telling them. 

So, I immediately called my mother.

She immediately started crying. 

We didn’t speak for 3 days, which is 3 days longer than we usually go without talking. Then, she called me and pretended like nothing had happened by asking my opinion on whether she should use a CVS to restore an old photo of her and my father, or mail it in to an online service.

And, that was that.