I may smoke another poff, I had one poff earlier with hubby. But then again, maybe not. I am drinking a small port glass of baileys we bought a couple of days ago or a while back. Hubby’s pattern are so obvious to me, his pattern with pot. He refuses to talk about pot when he is stone. That is a problem. Since he is often always stone and soon it will be like that again. He was so nice since his return and mostly sober. It is all thrown out the window again. I guess he does not like sobriety when he works but he almost lost his job because of pot, again. Sigh. So we are back to having a very sick hubby again and possibly dangerous again.
The Poetry Dervish