After deciding to swap her nightly Pinot for a few puffs of cannabis, Lydia Barrett is facing an unexpected crisis: a bizarre and unsettling calm has overtaken her social life. “I don’t know what to do with myself,” Lydia confessed. “I’m just… fine. There’s no existential spiral at 2 a.m., no analyzing everyone’s tone for hidden meanings. I miss the chaos, but I also don’t…?”

Gone are the mornings filled with the usual scramble to piece together fragmented memories of the night before. No longer does Lydia wake up to frantic group texts detailing a half-remembered public speech on the “real tragedy of the Friends finale.” “I mean, I used to have something to apologize for every weekend, some kind of minor fiasco or at least a mildly controversial take on the mating habits of the ‘Bachelor’ contestants. Now? Nothing. Just…chill?”

Her friends, too, are bewildered by the peaceful new Lydia. “Last Saturday, she didn’t even try to reignite the great ‘Is cereal a soup?’ debate at 1 a.m.,” recounted her friend Sarah. “Instead, she just said, ‘I love you guys, and this night is perfect.’ We were all stunned. Where’s the unfiltered Lydia that we knew and loved—and low-key feared?”

And it’s not just social drama that’s mysteriously vanished. Lydia has noticed a concerning lack of what she calls “existential dread-lite.” Before, a glass or three of wine was the perfect entry point into a mind-bending spiral about life’s meaninglessness, her life choices, and, inevitably, her decision to buy that astrology-themed salt lamp. “But now,” Lydia sighs, “I just feel grounded. Where’s the late-night ‘What am I doing with my life?’ moment? The midnight resolution to, I don’t know, move to Bali and start a meditation podcast?”

Unsurprisingly, Lydia’s social feed has also seen an adjustment. “I used to post cryptic song lyrics at 1 a.m. and vague allusions to ‘figuring stuff out,’ but now it’s all just memes about cats and recipes for avocado toast,” she admits. “Even I’m getting a little bored of my wholesome feed. It’s like I’m suddenly… content?”

Lydia’s transformation has sparked reactions in unexpected corners. “For centuries, wine has fueled melodrama, existential crises, and the kind of wild introspection that keeps friendships interesting,” commented Dr. Maxine Lark, a psychologist specializing in social dynamics. “With cannabis, Lydia’s experience is common—people often find themselves thinking, ‘Actually, I’m good.’ But what people rarely anticipate is how much they’ll miss the unhinged rants and life-changing epiphanies that go hand-in-hand with a good wine-fueled spiral.”

As for Lydia, she’s trying to adjust to her newfound calm but admits it’s a little unsettling. “I mean, it’s nice not to be trapped in a loop of wine-fueled remorse every Sunday morning. But there’s this odd void where the chaos used to be.” She laughs, almost missing her impulsive decision to text her ex a five-paragraph essay on “what we really meant to each other.”

For now, Lydia’s life remains mysteriously peaceful, free of drama, remorse, and existential dread. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to do with all this calm,” she shrugs. “I guess I’ll just—be happy?” She pauses, taking a breath. “But like, what’s that about?”