Chug some room temperature water because my health is something that I need to consider more. Walk down to the pharmacy on Grant to buy overpriced CBD gummies. They’re still cheaper than the gummies from that boutique named Noun & Adjective, the one with a very Tumblr minimalist aesthetic and a soccer mom owner who is too high to do her taxes but also can’t really afford her accountant, so her business will go under in two years and her storefront will be replaced in that building by one of those garish but somehow less try-hard CBD KRATOM SHOPS that have everything on their signs in ALL CAPS, that sell ENERGY SHOTS and offer a deal on A FREE MONSTER IF YOU BUY X WORTH OF KRATOM and honestly, I’m all about that.
This fucking city, though. My water came from a gallon jug—69 nice cents at the convenience store—because there’s lead in the pipes compounded by frequent bacterial contamination. A criminal suit against the municipal water authority is pending, and my tap water is currently speckled lint ghosts—certainly unsafe but I will wash my dead hair with it anyway, because I have no choice. Just like I have no choice but to go to the overpriced pharmacy on Grant for CBD, because my car is dead and there is no public transit in my neighborhood on the weekends. No idea if these gummies will do anything for me, as my stress is caused by my environment, rapidly deteriorating and not covered by my insurance.