Time to Try Marijuana

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At ninety-two, my father’s health is deteriorating.
I live with him. I’m tired of him. I want to smack him.
I think it is time to try marijuana.

My boss scolded me three times at work today. She yelled, “Your broccoli was nearly unchewable. Your peanut butter icing was supposed to be chocolate, and you put a can in the garbage that should’ve been recycled.”
I think it is time to try marijuana.

My mental health is getting shaky again.
I quit the gym and figure that by the end of summer I may be a mindless blob of fat.
My attempts at positive thinking have not panned out.
I think it is time to try marijuana.

Marijuana will soon be legal in my state.
I think it is time to try marijuana.

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