You went to bed high. So why does it still feel like your brain hasn't clocked in the next morning? A friend of mine recently learned one of the oldest lessons in the edible handbook. She ate one. About 40 minutes went by. Nothing. So she ate another. Still nothing. Then another. You already know where this story is going. At some point, all three apparently received the same memo and showed up for work at once. When I saw her the next day, she wasn't exactly high anymore, but she...

The first time I toured a friend’s cannabis facility in Colorado, I expected rows of beautiful plants, bright lights and maybe a few trimming tables. I was not prepared for the hairnet. Before stepping into production, I covered my shoes, washed my hands and listened to a list of sanitation rules that made the place feel like part greenhouse, part laboratory and part commercial kitchen. My friend laughed when she saw my expression. “You thought we just watered plants all day, didn’t you?” I...

I once left a bag of cannabis gummies in the center console while running what I thought would be a quick summer errand. It was not a quick errand. When I returned, the individual gummies had surrendered their independence and formed one large, sticky republic. The colors had merged. The shapes were gone. The carefully measured servings had become a single fruit-flavored question mark. Was the THC still in there? Probably. Was I going to cut the gummy blob into what I hoped were equal doses...