Does Weed Make You Want To Clean
I'll be the starting time to admit that a large function of my 20s was spent in a euphoric haze brought on by fairly regular pot smoking.
I loved the stuff — and it certainly loved me.
I don't experience I e'er had a "problem" with it, merely I did feel a potent pull to have it in my life. Sure, I got side-tracked sometimes with philosophical discoveries, but I was still making progress towards my goals.
I got my degree, and worked finer in my field. I never went to school or piece of work while stoned. That said, I certainly used pot on my own fourth dimension. Cannabis allowed me to chill and appreciate the simple moments of my non-so-hectic (though I thought it was) twenty-something life.
"I loved the stuff — and it certainly loved me." Image via iStock.
A loftier from weed was sort of similar a pair of rose-colored glasses and a shoulder rub, to me. Information technology made everything feel just a little bit lighter.
Fast frontwards 15 years, throw in three kids, a business firm, a husband, and some office-time writing, and, well… in that location's no time or space for my erstwhile pot-smoking ways. In fact, I've had a lonely bag of weed (given to me by a friend) sitting in the dorsum corner of our junk drawer for over two years.
Two years! Back in the day, that shit wouldn't have lasted two days.
Obviously, finding the right time for "Mummy to become high" is no piece of cake feat. Especially since I have a tween who stays up almost as late as we do now.
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Lately, the handbag of weed in the junk drawer has been calling my name. I know I relish smoking weed, yet there information technology sits. It sits in that location, unsmoked, because;
- My kids are always effectually; and if they aren't around, they may terminate up needing me, and then I can't be stoned.
- I am a suburban mum, not a hippie.
Therefore, it just never happens.
But yesterday, I said "Fuck this! Weed and I volition reunite — and it will be today."
So, I dropped the kids off at a play date a few streets over, deciding if they needed me I could walk back over (with shades on) to go them.
I then came back dwelling house and rolled myself a small one.
Not quite a "wake and bake," but close plenty!
I stepped out into the lawn, with the BBQ lighter and my tiny little spliff.
I but took a few drags, non certain how I would handle it, and not wanting to get also altered, later all these years.
Within moments, the rose-colored glasses were on and the shoulder rub was commencement…
It felt damn good — a chip nostalgic, even.
I immediately noticed how fresh the air smelled, with its fragrant summer aromas. I went into the firm, caught a glimpse of my scruffy self in the mirror, and decided I needed a quick freshening up. On went a blackness maxi clothes, some lip gloss, and a dab of the patchouli oil I'd forgotten I had.
And then… So something happened that was absolutely out of this world: I cleaned!
"I cleaned!" Image via iStock.
I was inspired, perhaps for the first time always, and all I wanted to practice was clean. So, I scrubbed. I organized. I wiped smudges and dirt that I'd disregarded for years. I folded and straightened, like an artist at work. Zero could pull me away from cleaning, not even my laptop.
Now, for those of you who don't know me — which is all of you, because I have written this anonymously! — I Hate cleaning.
Just two tokes from a tiny little articulation made cleaning fun!
It. Fabricated. Cleaning. Fun.
Which, really, actually sucks. Because, inevitably, the buzz wore off and normalcy returned.
Then, at present I have to united nations-know the joy that my rendezvous with a dube brought to me and to the monotony of my daily mum-chores. I have to un-know it because I tin can't justify smoking pot for fun on weekday mornings.
I'm non a hippie, I'm a housewife, right?!
Just… maybe I could exist both? Can a suburban housewife non also be a hippie at heart?
Wouldn't "Weed Wednesdays" be pretty fun? Every Wednesday I could clean my house in a euphoric brume of creative system.
Man, I actually like the sound of that!
Besides, the summer is almost over, we all survived, and then I certainly deserve a nice pair of rose-colored glasses and a massage to celebrate!
This story past bearding originally appeared on Ravishly, a feminist news+civilization website.
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Source: https://www.mamamia.com.au/smoking-weed-made-me-clean-my-house/
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