Speaking of "depressing"...My gifted vaporizer stopped taking the charge. My cheapo vape pen has died. I pulled out my gifted pipe and smoked some DP just to "fake" my way through the weekend. It didn't work.
I threw up in the floor of Party City! As if that weren't embarrassing in and of itself, I was wearing a big boob wet t-shirt costume!
It wasn't the weed that made me sick. It's disease and the ramifications of treatments. TMI, but after 36 years of marriage, my husband deserves better than this. FFS, I do, too. Pain meds choke my bowels/bladder. Decades of hurt have drained my will to live. I can no longer motivate myself to be the person I'm expected to be. (I am my worst critic)
I'm thinking maybe speed...What fucking difference does it make at 55?
I just finished specs/drawings/bids to submit for contract @ 8 a.m. tomorrow. So...FUCK IT, I'm getting high this afternoon. I'm taking my pipe/weed out on the deck, listen to the sound of the waterfall, and chill with my Dalmatian and kitty. I personally don't like smoking, but it's all I've got for now.
BTW...Tom, sounds like we share a little OCD?

Pain and low energy are fucking with my perfectionism after 2+ decades.