Now that my cast of character’s been functionally introduced, you are aware of my intentions to promote a healthy, balanced #420lifestyle, we will start our narrative, right here, for however long it may last. I like to imagine using the words, “Foisted on me own, Petard“, when I finally quit my online journaling.
If you are behind on our cast or my personal backstory, New Reader, I would recommend starting at the beginning, context will really help you to get to know the comedy show that is my daily life, I wish I could make this crap up.
I cannot speak for all my extended Clark clan, about their foibles or nuances without their permission, in great detail. However, for my immediate tribe, if you’ve lived with me or have put up with me for more than 20 years, you made your choices.
I am really not very shy, am a little blunt and observant, I also tend to overshare. I’m told these are good qualities in a writer, my sources do not include my Eldest Changeling.
My family is not a wealthy one but we are comfortable, happy and work very hard. Mr. Clark and I have worked together at the same company for almost a decade, much to the amazement of everyone we know. It’s not always harmonious but we are efficient and have a healthy respect if not fear for one another professionally. We are both forces of nature in our own ways, except I have a halo and Mr Clark is obviously the #sonofanutcracker I have always professed him to be.
I am a cannabis user, for personal reasons. Mr. Clark is not but this man knows me to my soul and has stuck with me through all my tantrums and depressions wanting to come home on a lunch break when he’s worried about me, I have a picture of the text message if Mr. Clark tries to deny it.
In the early days of my Cannabis exploration, a friend of our family had given two or three ginger canna cookies, the delicious predecessors of the ManaCannaCookie.
The gift was provided after I’d just started using cannabis but due to an unfortunate incident on my honeymoon in Amsterdam, the smell of the cannabis triggered a gag reflex that I’d been struggling with for over a decade.
Yes, this is a picture of me using Cannabis for the first time, I only discuss what happened in Amsterdam, in Amsterdam.
An old family friend who has requested to be called #Thor, for narrative purposes had the perfect solution, medibles! Thor, figured if i couldn’t detect the obvious smell or taste, I could still benefit from the Cannabis. I can admit his theory was sound. I was just enthusiastic at it’s application, it was about the same time Dr. Strange with Mr. #Cumberbatch started in theaters, Thor recommended I eat half a cookie, “Then go see Dr. Strange, it will be the greatest decision you’ve ever made!”, so that’s what I did.
I’d convinced the Changelings to come to the movie so we could have a designated driver and I gave Mr. Clark the other half of the cookie. This second part, giving Mr. Clark the cookie was a terrible decision.
Mr. Clark who is a sturdy and fearsome individual today, functionally stopped using any kind of medicine or intoxicant a number of years ago for the most adorable reason he’s forbidden me to mention. Before this point, Mr. Clark hadn’t used even, Sinutab, for years. He took and ate the other half of the cookie to keep me company in my experience and we went on our chaperoned date.
We got to the theater, immediately went into our movie and sat at the back because we were running a little late. 20 min into the movie there is this scene where Dr. Strange operates on a pour soul, there’s blood and surgical tools and the whole nine yards:
Because I am the worst Wife ever, I’d forgotten about my Mr. Clark’s hemophobia. He normally handles the sight of blood pretty well, when he’s not intoxicated. This particular instance not so much. With the half a cookie in his bloodstream and during the above noted scene. Mr. Clark’s body went rigid, his legs forcefully kicking the chair in the aisle ahead of us and he fainted, limp in his seat.
His head tilted back against the headrest, he began gargling his saliva, the Changelings had a panic attacks, I remained in my seat, unmoved by his drama. I did not take action until Mr. Clark’s head lolled to the side did I get concerned and the Changelings started to protest, loudly. I stood, in front of Mr. Clark and shook him vigorously, with no response, then I tapped his face gently with the palm of my right hand. I have never purposefully laid a hand on Mr. Clark, yes sometimes in jest, like, when he’s spent a week trying to convince my children he’s was Robot but a healthy slap on the arm is as far as it goes.
Mr. Clark sat up, alert, hurt in his eyes and rubbing his cheek, “Why ya gots to be so mean, Baby?” Mr. Clark had fainted and then immediately fell asleep. We went for a lap around the movie theater lobby, he was fine.
We don’t give Cannabis to Mr. Clark anymore but he is delighted that it helps me and is the perfect man for me.
Happy New Year Mr. Clark, only 100 more to go; please buckle up.