Posts Tagged ‘Weed’

Now We Are 2

Hooray, lazypuffhead is two years old today! Perhaps it has become a misnomer, as, frankly, I’m not as lazy as I once thought I was. Yes, I puff but that is not what defines me. Yes, I make errors but so does everyone else and they don’t even have an excuse! So perhaps I am easing up on myself a bit and realising that I’m only human and not such a terrible one at that. I feel the ‘lazy’, ‘bored’ period has now, at long last, started drifting away and a better me, still the same me, still the puffing me, is emerging. Whilst I was away in Spain last week, I visualised a better job waiting for me when I came home and another client or two – the day after I came home, I got a job offer from one of my clients, one that entails them actually wanting ‘another pair of eyes’ on their projects, something I’ve never been asked for in all these years of transcribing. That same day I got another new client, work should be arriving this week. At the same time I have been pre booked for work throughout the summer and things are better than they’ve been since before the country went broke. In terms of the ’emotional guidance scale’, I am now above ‘boredom’, which is the realm of excitement and expectation and there are no lions on my path, only angels.


Some Things You Need to Know

This week I stumbled across a website called Marc & Angel Hack Life.

I am sharing one of their posts because I thought it was beautiful and it touched me.

“I know you’re reading this. And I want you to know I’m writing this for you. Others will be confused. They will think I’m writing this for them. But I’m not.

This one’s for you.

I want you to know that life is not easy. Every day is an unpredictable challenge. Some days it can be difficult to simply get out of bed in the morning. To face reality and put on that smile. But I want you to know, your smile has kept me going on more days than I can count. Never forget that, even through the toughest times, you are incredible. You really are.

So smile more often. You have so many reasons to. Time and again, my reason is you.

You won’t always be perfect. Neither will I. Because nobody is perfect, and nobody deserves to be perfect. Nobody has it easy, everybody has issues. You will never know exactly what I’m going through. And I will never know exactly what you’re going through. We are all fighting our own unique war.

But we are fighting through it simultaneously, together.

Whenever somebody discredits you, and tells you that you can’t do something, keep in mind that they are speaking from within the boundaries of their own limitations. Ignore them. Don’t give in. In this crazy world that’s trying to make you like everyone else, find the courage to keep being your awesome self. And when they laugh at you for being different, laugh back at them for being the same.

Remember, our courage doesn’t always roar aloud. Sometimes it’s the quiet voice at the end of the day whispering, “I will try again tomorrow.” So stand strong. Things turn out best for people who make the best out of the way things turn out.

And I am committed to making the best of it along with you.”


I’m not one for resolutions, perhaps due to some arrogance that everything I do is wonderful and what could I possibly want to change. I suppose it’s only when something presses my buttons that I feel it perhaps needs looking at instead of brushing it under the carpet. There are lots of things that I would like to do, including taking trips to visit people (whether afar or nearer, in Brighton, or even East Barnet or Arkley) but I seriously can’t be arsed, yet a lot of the time I am bored shitless and would really benefit from doing things. My can’t be arsed-ness extends to holidays; I just can’t get it together, I’ll have a host of excuses that result in me standing still. I find the smallest chore an effort, just the mere thought of it sending me over the edge. I suspect that it is my consumption of weed that has rendered me this way. I have smoked so much that I never feel stoned any more; I just feel generally drained and de-motivated. To put a brake on it in any way will only result in my doing it more, so I don’t want to rock the boat – even the thought that perhaps I’ll only smoke in the evenings makes me shudder and reach for my tin. I wish I could understand why something that makes me feel generally bad is still so tempting and I can’t leave it alone. So I will not ‘resolve’ to do anything about it but I am thinking about it.




My friend TJ’s mum is a fantastic knitter. On Monday she mentioned on Facebook that she was knitting herself some gloves and I commented that I would like her to make me some ‘black, soft, fingerless’ ones. Today I received them – how’s that for speed!? – and tonight I wore them. They are the warmest fingerless gloves I have ever had (and I’ve had quite a few) and on my walk tonight I appreciated the fact that for the first time ever not even my fingertips were cold. As I have a habit of losing gloves, she said that she’ll make me some more and is also going to make ones just like the ones I lost the other week. In return I have sent her some welly socks so that she can keep warm when she walks her dogs on the beach this winter; hope she likes them.



Chaos is Green

I'm driving myself mad

Chaos is borne out of disconnection with our source and our own selves.

I am cut off.

The chaos that surrounds me is of my own making.

It is trying to tell me something that I do not want to hear (la, la, la, I can’t hear you).

The more I ignore it, the more chaos there will be until I can’t stand it any more and I make a change.

We are all here to achieve our destinies and flow along life’s path but I’m stuck in a groove …

… and I know that the more chaos, the better the weed.


New Gloves Gone

Yesterday I went to Muswell Hill for an all day breakfast with La Poppette. Just last month I purchased a lovely pair of brown cable knit fingerless gloves – I say ‘lovely’ but they were actually a trifle itchy (cashmere is the only way to go). We paid the bill and left, leaving behind my new gloves.

We trundled up to Starbucks in North Finchley and then went to buy some padded brown envelopes so I could send my friend Tuff Dude her now weekly draw. And home.

As I was tidying around, I realised that my gloves were nowhere to be seen. ‘Shit, I think I left them in the cafe!? … And where are those envelopes!?’ – if I could find the envelopes then perhaps the gloves were with them?

The hunt began; I looked on every surface touched by me since entering the house, I looked in all the drawers available, twice … nothing. I chose not to get into a fluster and decided to look again later. On further investigation, I found the envelopes in a drawer.

Conclusion; the gloves MUST have been left behind.

This morning at 9.00 a.m. I walked to Muswell Hill – it was gloriously sunny. I went back to the cafe and saw the same girl who had served me yesterday and I described my gloves and she said, ‘No.’ Fucking liar!

On reflection, it may be a bit unfair to say she is ‘liar’ in that manner, as when I lost my sunglasses I swore blind that I’d left them at the pub and that they were all liars and then the glasses turned up two weeks later, having been left in a spot that was so unusual, I’m surprised they were ever found.



Blind Side

Since last week I have had some serious weed. I don’t usually feel ‘stoned’ but on this I do, like off my head stoned. It’s not the sort of weed you can hammer in the way I am accustomed, so actually I have been a basket case , completely manic and irrational, resulting in rash decisions that haven’t really served me too well.

Yesterday evening, as I was hurrying up the High Road on a mission, I went past Mr Peter’s Opticians and, as he was standing in the doorway, I hopped in and said I really could do with an eye test. I was informed that I could have one straight away, so I thought, ‘Why not?’ – I am finding it increasingly difficult to read the small print (and not so small print) on packaging generally, which makes shopping a pain in the arse and although I have a hideous off-the-shelf pair, I wouldn’t be seen dead in them.

I found a pair of frames that I liked and requested rose tinted lenses, anti-glare and anti-scratch and, while we were at it, he thought varifocals would be a good idea – which they really would not seeing as I don’t intend to keep the glasses on my face except for reading. Mr Peters totted it all up and presented me with a bill for £505 (including the £25 eye test) and without a second thought, I took out my debit card, paid in full, and skipped off out of the shop, one happy customer.

When I mentioned it to Honey in passing that I had spent £500 on a pair of glasses, his face was one of total disbelief and I actually had to show him the receipt to prove it! It was only when he pointed out that it was a ridiculous amount of money that could be better spent elsewhere, did it hit me that I may have been a little hasty and then as the evening wore on I became more and more anxious. I then had a completely sleepless night, waiting for 9 a.m. when I could tell Mr Peters that I had been slightly impulsive and that actually all I really need is a pair of reading glasses, fuck the varifocals, fuck the pink tint.

I hopped out of bed in time to get to his shop for the dot of 9.00. ‘Oh, Mr Peters,’ I said, ‘I’ve been thinking about you all night, I could not sleep a wink … I’ve changed my mind.’ He duly refunded me £200, which made me feel a lot, lot better – still pricey perhaps but at least considered.

** I’m mashed, sorry **


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