At the time I was eventually living in my van.
COVID had shuttered my company a couple years before, and the lack of income cost me my home.
Soon after that my partner found someone new. She actually moved out all her stuff and left me a note that she wasn’t coming back, and divorce papers were served to me right before I became homeless. All in all it was not a good year. All I had was my van and my dog Rex. Then I finally got a visit from Mike, a woman I knew back in university. Mike had gone from being the local cannabis contractor to the local cannabis grower. She had another small pot farm outside of town, and she needed a good worker to help him with the crops. In return for room, board, and all the cannabis I could smoke I would labor in her fields. At the time I didn’t know anything about the horticultural side of cannabis, however I was willing to learn. I can’t say that it was straight-forward work, no matter what people think about a cannabis farm being fun. The emphasis in this particular case is on the “farm” and not the “cannabis” because this is hard, grueling labor for eight to ten hours a day. By the end of the day I was usually too tired to even want to smoke any cannabis, I just wanted to go to sleep. Mike has been really kind to me so far, and since I haven’t really been smoking much of her cannabis she has been paying me an hourly wage.