Trying to worry….

Last Sunday I was reclining on the sofa, looking at the ceiling, my left hand on my forehead, trying to worry, trying to worry about the reality of a weedless Christmas. What is worse than no weed is poor quality weed, that is my fucking nightmare. She was sitting opposite me, not so much scrolling on her phone but jabbing into her phone with temper. Her energy was stsrting to get on my nerves. ” look how cranky you get without weed” said I. ” you got me into it, didn’t you” she said. ” Don’t pin on it on me baby” I said. My phone rang, ” Hey man, whats shaking?” I said. ” I have good news and bad news” he said.  This sounded promising. ” Talk to me” I said. ” I was talking to the guy that grows the great weed, he has some ready to go, this shit will be the dogs bollocks, the bad news, he wants the money in advance”. ” Thats no problem, money is no object when it comes to weed, I’ll revolut that right now, when are we talking?” I said. ” We’re talking Thursday, Friday at the latest” he said which meant Friday, if you hear a day being mentioned ss the latest, that’s the day you will get your weed, never earlier if it is quality stuff. I took my left hand off my forehead and now contemplated the reality of a sensational qualiy weed Christmas.