I told myself I most certainly was not to consume – in any way, shape, or form – marijuana or marijuana related products this morning before my 11:40am meeting with my advisor. I’m meeting with him in regards to my class schedule next semester.
Oh yeah, and the other part of the story is that I just smoked some weed.
And yes, it’s still before noon. Not that that really matters at this point.
The meeting is no problem, I’m totally fine with interacting with people while I’m high at this point.
I didn’t used to be, I used to hate it slash suck at it. Luckily, for like two years straight, I continuously forgot that I hated it slash sucked at it because, well, I was high every time I realized those things.
So every time before a class or something I had to do, I’d be like “I should get high before I go” and then some other layer of consciousness of mine would be like “Yeaaaa!!!”
And then I’d smoke. And then I’d be high.
And then I’d be about to walk into class or whatever and be like “Why the fuck did I smoke? Going to class high isn’t fun!! It fucking sucks!!!”
And I repeated actions quite similar to that roughly 200 times since Freshman year, so now it doesn’t bother me at all. I kind of like it. It’s challenging to pretend to not be high when you’re high. It’s fun to pretend you care about all these humanly things.
I always wonder in what ways it alters my social encounters. For instance, what would have happened differently in this meeting I’m about to go to if I wasn’t high? The outcome likely would have been the same either way, but what details in our conversation would be different?
I’ll never effing know. And that pisses me the eff off.
I love writing when I’m high.