Pot – ittude Adjustment

I decided to write a story about weed, or lack thereof. I am working out of town away from all my comforts. Now, I should let you know, I don’t smoke pot all that much. Compared to the old me I am a complete stoner but compared to real pot smokers my habit is laughable.

So here I am at the end of the day and all I can think about is how nice it would be to rip a giant hit and release myself from stress, worry and the general BS I have to face at work right now. Yes, one hit does it for me. I know, I know, lucky!!!!

Does this mean I am trying to escape from my problems? I think not my friends. I have found that pot helps me forget temporarily, lowers my heart rate and allows me to just wallow in my own fantasy world. Who wouldn’t want to drift off into lah-lah land when they have to get up and do it again tomorrow?

Is this the same as trying to forget your problems by drinking yourself into a stupor? Some of you might think so but I call Bullshit. Drinking just makes you not care, become non- productive and gives you an overall numb sensation, I have no problems, feeling. It also can make you think you are tougher than you are, really good looking, super extra smart and megaphone loud. Oh let’s not forget the poor decision making, behaving outside of your character and the long list of “oh god did I really do that last night. Oh and to top it off…that shit ends up on Facebook. I don’t want to give you the impression that I don’t drink. I do and sometimes I think I am a real wino. But on this occasion I just want what my little weed friend can offer. Pure Bliss.

pure bliss

Sooooo, where can I find pot? Let’s see; 1. It’s not legal here. 2. I don’t know anyone to ask. 3. I have no pipe or bong. 3. I have never tried to buy pot from a stranger. I think I will just have to suffer…

What this makes me really think about is how dumb it is that we are unable to bring our supplies with us when we travel. It seems so ludicrous to me that people can bring a suitcase full of prescriptions drugs that they can legally abuse from state to state or country to country, on a plane, train, boat with no hassle. I can even get completely wasted on a plane, sometimes it is even complimentary. I could pop 5 valium and a couple ADHD pills and get on with my bad self.

Someday I hope they have a ‘Flying High Airlines’. Flight staff will wear tie-dye, offer CBD oil, play relaxing music, have groovy snacks and be super friendly. The airport will have a VIP Stoner section for long layovers with comfy places to lie about with soft streaming music.

The other folks can just keep flying on ‘Oh God Please Help Me Airlines’ with the screaming child, the bad coffee, stupid snacks, and weird baggage rules. Those airports will continue to make sure that we are as uncomfortable as possible during lay overs. You have to drink to be able to tolerate how awful it is. Hey? Which airline and airport do you think would be more popular?


So back to the quest for pot.

As it turns out, a colleague of mine that happened to be working in the same location as me was a little bolder than I could be and actually got hooked up be his taxi driver. Ha ha ha that cracks me up. Ask the taxi driver, they know where the weed is? Who knew? So she offered me some. I turned it down. As it turns out I am so worried about doing a good job while I am here that the sensible side of me says “if you want to be sharp tomorrow don’t get baked” which for me is one hit.

Yes, I will admit that even I know that moderation is the key to being a responsible stoner. If I went out and had a few shots of tequila the night before a big day, it would be an awful, long, painful day to remember. Pot works the same way for me so I choose to be responsible and decline her generous offer.


So I head home on Friday. I board my flight and after settling in and getting out my crossword puzzle I hear a baby crying a few seats ahead of me. Oh great this will be an amazing flight. You know it. The baby is fussing the entire flight and I am ready to poke my own eye out by the time we land. So I drink a couple shots of Jameson and try to melt into my uncomfortable, yet better than nothing, oblivion.


Well folks, let me tell you a little something about lessons learned in life. I am so caught up in my own boo hoo hoo this trip, no weed, tiresome work, alone out town, boredom, and then this crazy cranky baby on the trip home that I forget I am not the only person on the planet. I get to Seattle to await my next flight and my friend who happened to be sitting directly behind the screaming babe and her parents meets me at the next gate. I lament over my woes and talk about how much I just want to get home and “God how I hate disruptive and bratty children” blah blah blah. So she tells me that the baby has cancer and her parents are just hoping she survives the treatment etc. Yep, I am an asshole. Enough said.

Sometimes these things happen to us to wake us up I think and help us remember that we need to leave our bubble and connect with the humans around us. Instead of complaining and being negative we could actually step off our platform and lend a hand, an ear or a shoulder to a stranger that has it far worse than us. Perhaps stop bitching about the frivolous nit-picky BS that plagues us? Ok, so perception now is reset and I am even more anxious to get home to my personal bliss.

I get home and all settled in and there is my lovely blue glass friend waiting with open arms ready to forgive all my transgressions. I have to say, I love this part. I know that within aprox. 45 seconds after inhaling this green little paradise I will slip into happy, all my cares will melt away and all that is important will become clear. It does, as expected. Thank you Pot Gods for your generosity. I am finally sated.

sand rock

What have I learned? Pot? Yep still great, find something every day to be grateful about and stop being a giant jerk.