My Inherent Vice

I miss my faraway looks.

Dear Sir,
It’s been mostly a pleasure living with you. You have never (severely) burned me. You gave me sustenance and warmth when I needed it and cool breezes whenever they could be found. You never gave me frostbite or ignored cuts or gashes. Oh, sure, there have been scrapes and stitches, but hey, life happens, and I’m here for it. In recent years, we've been through a bit of a ringer. Hives. Eczema. The dryness, the burning, and of course, the itching. You moisturized. You procured one of the most expensive pharmaceuticals imaginable. You've done your part. Mostly. You’ve worked your way through the deadly sins and had a good go at the heavenly virtues, but now, as a representative of your body, I’m here to tell you it’s time to sign off on your remaining indulgence. You never smoked. Good man. You gave up alcohol because it made you want to remove your skin with your own fingernails. Well done. Now that itchy and burning sensation has returned, so it’s time to say goodbye to your last vice. It’s been advised that you give up cannabis. Marijuana. Mary Jane. Of the family Cannabaceae. Weed. Dope. Pot. Flower. Chronic. Reefer. Herb. Ganja. OK, your go-to was the sweet and sour, sugary candy edibles (such a lightweight), and you used such low doses as to be known to your local retailer as “the guy who micro-doses,” but the end is near. The time is now. Stop taking THC, or you’ll never know a restful night or wakeful day again.
— your largest and most annoying organ,
Your Skin

I discovered something I’ve known for too long. I was too dependent on cannabis gummies to sleep. As a test, to see if this recreation was, in fact, causing my itchiness, I gave it up for six months. There seemed to be no connection. No worsening or improvement, so I indulged again. Here we are, two years on, and it appears there is a connection (or so scientists say). I guess a small regular dose took time to build up, and now it will take its time to abate. What's left?

I've never smoked. I tried it. Didn't get it. After developing asthma, it seemed absurd in any event. I've never seen the appeal of gambling. Games of chance aren't challenging; they're just luck. I have enjoyed a tipple, but once you associate something with a burning pain, it's surprisingly easy to give up. Then cannabis became legal, seemingly on cue from my abstinence of alcohol, and it seemed I may have found my indulgence. I first tried CBD to help quell my nightly anxiety around my nightly storms of itchiness that kept me from sleeping. Yet it didn't affect me at all. Like literal snake oil, CBD didn't even have a placebo effect, or I couldn't convince myself that it did. Slowly, I tried cannabis edible gummy candies. Being fond of data, I would even note the time and impact of the sensation and record them in a notebook. Eventually, I could tell from the THC to CBD ratio how I would react. Though edibles are infamously unpredictable and inspired the phrase of realization, "when the edibles kicked in." I discovered that cannabis-infused beverages are far more potent and reliable. Also, having a beverage with a heady, swooning impression felt like a sentimental return to an evening tipple.

But it's all over now, Baby Blue (Blue Raspberry Watermelon Sourz to be specific). What's left? Chocolate? While dentists and doctors will discourage too much chocolate, I consider it my most reliable mood-altering drug, at least until psilocybin is legalized. I suppose some might consider napping an indulgence. These are probably the same people who exclaim, "I can sleep when I'm dead." Well, get your pyjamas on, because with that attitude, it will be sooner than you think.

Why do we even need our vices? Can't I just get high on life? No. No, I cannot. I suppose we lean on such things as drugs and alcohol as they are pretty efficient. A couple of drinks, an edible, or a smoke is the quickest and cheapest micro-vacation you can have. Have you ever tried meditation? It takes forever. Who has the time? Travel? Please. Have you been somewhere else? Did you know when you travel, you leave all of your stuff at home? Stuff like your pillow and bed? Your TV, books, and music? Where's the fun in that? If quitting my last vice actually subsides my skin issues, then I'll have no problem with having given it up. The vice itself inherently caused my discomfort rather than providing any pleasure, so it's an easy win. Yet I won't know for months. It's only been three weeks. I'll be here waiting for the last vice to leave.