My movers are finally delivering all of my furniture / boxes today and let me tell you, I didn't realize how attached to my pink Kitchenaid I was until I couldn't look at it whenever I wanted. All of my shoes and dresses are on that truck, too. Damn. Gonna be just like Christmas, except better because at the end of all of this, I don't have to fly back to Nashville.

So I think I’ve always been pretty transparent about how much weed I used to smoke in college and how I still dabble, as I am a creative type who lives in a state where it is legal to have and smoke marijuana for medical purposes. That being said, I have cut back a significant amount from what I used to smoke, and more often than not I find myself in a place where smoking weed is just going to make everything a lot worse. While three years ago I might have had an attitude that supported me smoking whenever I wanted, I now have moments where I dread being high, where it seems like everything would be one hundred times worse if I smoked pot before I did something. That never, ever used to happen... but suddenly it does.

You know what I think about when I’m having one of those moments? One of those moments where I’m all “Nah, don’t smoke weed before you go to the grocery store, you’re just going to buy too much and freak out the whole time”? I’m thinking of all the times I have watched Intervention stoned out of my gourd, thinking that I was just one joint away from living on Skid Row, prostituting for cash in the elevators in Metro stations and keeping myself warm with found pieces of newspaper. That’s what makes me not want to smoke pot. Not the idea that any of that might actually happen to me, but the extreme amount of paranoia and wild-thinking I do while I’m high if there’s any outside influence that isn’t a bad reality TV show. Something like Intervention or random people at Ralph’s looking at me spacing out in the cookie aisle is too much of a variable for me. It’s an added element I can no longer afford if I want to smoke up.

I've been enjoying my time off, but once last week I was staring at the ceiling after smoking and listening to NPR when a story about the financial crisis came on and I began to think of my own mini financial crises. Suddenly, it wasn’t as simple as continuing to pay off my old debts and working my butt off to scrape together gas and food money. No, all of a sudden I could practically feel someone coming to collect my bed and laptop and car and putting it all on a truck and selling it at an auction.

Nothing is quite as bad as what I used to think about while watching Intervention, but worse in that it was a much more realistic fear. I could see my weed use leading me down a path of laziness and a general inability to take care of my to do list than extreme drug addiction and eventual homelessness.

I guess what I’m trying to say you guys is that I’m growing up and that is so, so boring.

Yours in Christ,

Karin