A teacher once told me to write what you know, and since there’s very little call for stories about incrementally turning into Gollum as I shun natural light, social interaction, and the impudent inveigling of relatives trying to coax me out of my Reefer Madness redoubts and into the so-called “world,” I like to write about weed.
Most of my pro-pot takes come down to wondering why in the hell, in the Year of Our Lord 2022, this shit is still illegal in so many places. I didn’t move to Oregon from Wisconsin seven years ago explicitly for the legal weed, but it’s been a nice perk. For me, at least, it’s been nothing but upside. I understand there are some downsides to pot use, of course, but for the life of me I can’t remember what they are. Weird.