It may be best to illustrate my newfound love for CBD gummies with a short biographical tale about conquering fear.
I had the honor of officiating my friends’ wedding in the great state of Delaware back in August. Along with the standard officiating duties, I was asked to give a speech at the reception dinner.
It’s not the first wedding speech I’ve given (hold the applause for Mr. Big Shot!), but for whatever reason I was particularly nervous about this one. Maybe it’s because it was a massive 250 person wedding. Maybe it’s because I committed to memorizing three pages of written material. Maybe it’s because I put on 10 pounds of pure fat this summer (thanks day drinking!) and college friends who remember me at my physical peak would be in attendance. Maybe, just maybe, I just don’t fucking have it anymore.Whatever it was, I knew excessive practice in the mirror and a couple glasses of whiskey wouldn’t be enough to spook away the nerves.
I confided my trepidation with an old friend, Pete, whose seemingly been in state of complete zen for three decades. The only way I can describe this particular friend is in this way: if the Titanic were going down, this dude would continue to play the violin in perfect D minor while I hurled myself into the giant propeller. Cool is his superpower. Always has been.
After I spilled my insecurities to Pete, he offered me a wry smile, reached in his sport coat pocket and handed me two gummy bears before confidently saying:
“Take these an hour before showtime, I take them for work before big presentations at work and they scare away the demons.”
Pete you have a job? I wondered aloud.
He laughed, unaware that I was only half kidding.
I knew right away the gummies he handed me were CBD-infused. I’ve taken them to decompress and popped a couple while I’m out drinking and have had only good experiences. But did I really want to pop these without full knowledge of how they’d affect me? Add another variable in an already terrifying sea of unknowns?
The answer was yes. Because it came from Pete. That dude could have thrown Drano ice cubs in my drink and I would have guzzled it.
So I did as the doctor prescribed and chewed the two gummies at the very beginning cocktail hour. And after an hour and a couple glasses of white wine, the shortness of breath and constant ‘what if I fuck this up?’ thoughts that swoop in like clockwork directly before every speech I’ve ever given never came. I was cool as a cucumber. I had channeled my inner Pete and was ready to grab a violin and start playing. Not today would I decapitate myself on a ship propeller.
How did the speech go, the one person who’s still reading this asks: I’ve never been one to brag but lets just say the father of the bride asked for a written copy of the speech and the grooms mom gave me a hug that can most aptly be described as ‘sexual.’
I don’t know how much I should credit CBD gummies with putting my nerves at bay, but I will say that I’m popping two of those bad boys before every nerve-wracking undertaking I have going forward.
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