A Quick Word: Dear Kosher Kush, I love you
My current favorite cannabis strain
It’s been a day, folks.
Before 7 am could stretch its legs, I walked into my office and found a special hot fudge sundae left by my beagle. How do I know, out of my five pets, that it was Roscoe?
Nobody shits quite like my beagle. It’s a forceful infusion of squatting, as the dog extracts whatever combination of “food” he ate during the past 24 hours. The deep woods Arkansas rescue capped it all off with a large pee on the other side of my office rug. Nothing says Friday morning like the stinging concoction of piss and shit!
The day was compounded by a rugged and ongoing job search. The St. Louis Jewish Light cut me at the end of April. They were my biggest freelance paycheck, so it was time to go find a real job, as my wife and dad describe it, instead of living on a collection of stipend deposits and Mr. Mom duty. Stripping may be an option.
There’s little fun to be found in a job hunt. You are searching for something that satisfies the wife, pays well, and doesn’t turn me into the fucking hulk. Before you all scream third party problems and entitlement, don’t act like my life is that different from yours. We’re all trying to get through life doing something we love (or close to it) while smiling as much as possible and not going out on your final note as a sad soul. You leave a few recruits for the future, and eventually depart. I know the arc well, and will keep trying to enjoy it.
But searching on Indeed and LinkedIn is a circle of mindfuck. You click on 47 different jobs, finding 3-4 that actually fit. Or a few that don’t write a thesis statement in the job bio. Look, there’s nothing enticing about $12-13 per hour and listing 18 responsibilities. We’ll do about half of those in the end, and you know it. Don’t label something “associate or service rep” when it really means “unofficial assistant manager.”
I had my resume polished by a pro, broadening the writing and media work I have done over the past six years. Yet, every copywriting (what the folks in Mad Men did for a living) and journalist/writing gig has produced zero responses. I applied for a few other job varieties, with little response. For all I hear about the world needing workers, I am standing here and hearing nothing. Is it because I’m bald and like tacos?
So, Kosher Kush to the rescue. An Indica-dominant strain that packs a 21.57 THC% and has a long-lasting effect. This is the kind of cannabis high that hits you first and foremost in your forehead. Right between the eyes, where the headaches like to roam. It just clears the table. A couple fingers of Four Roses Single Batch and a few puffs from the mighty Kush family niece grabbed all the job hunt stress and normal adulting rigor, and threw it to the ground. Only for a little while, like Jack Buck used to say before commercials.
One of the main reasons I am a medical marijuana patient is the stress relief. My appetite doesn’t need much help, and I can sleep with the best of them. But man, the release you get is unparalleled.
I’ll continue to shout it to the moon that cannabis can do far more wonders for your life than alcohol. Just saying.
Have a good weekend.
Photo Credit: Weedist