#96

i certainly understand the appeal of flopping on the couch after work and just vegging. in fact, i probably understand it more than most. but night after night of coming home to you on the couch, staring at the tv, getting progressively more stoned... i definitely started to resent that.

you never wanted to do anything. and although you were more giggly and fun after a few hits, you always went far past that, until you were basically sucked into the couch, unmoving, staring straight ahead. many times i thought you were sleeping. sometimes i thought i should put a mirror by your mouth to make sure you were still breathing.

i am no fan of Nancy Reagan or her war on drugs (or her infinite wardrobe of snappy, conservative dresses) but watching you turn into an inert lump every night was no fun either.