My high sets in some time between the serving of the intermezzo and dessert. I barely notice it. But the euphoria; the escape from anxiety; the feeling of content; the canna-bliss––really takes its place next to my bones, as the Colorado sun begins to retreat behind the surrounding flatiron foothills. The stone isn’t intense or overwhelming. I’m not spun out of my mind, or paranoid, or giggly. To my right, a diverse group of people from all corners of the cannabis industry are laughing, and joking, and smoking, and vaping, and dining on gourmet, chef-prepared food. And to the left, a lone cloud in the distance rids itself of any rain long before it would join our Longmont party. I’m at the Catalina Wine Mixer of Colorado weed dinners.
Read the full article on Kindland
