In our connected age, it’s hard to live a healthy, balanced home life. In Homebody, we test one product that claims to help.
I have to admit I was high when I had the idea. A weed gummy deep, I stopped in the kitchen for a snack and found myself at the sink, scrubbing through the greasy dishes sober me had avoided all week. I enjoy a bit of weed just like I do the occasional cigar or glass of whiskey. But maybe I could harness it to knock out housework, giggling all the while?
Part of the inspiration came from Dosist, a lifestyle-meets-cannabis company based in Santa Monica and available all around California, Florida, Nevada and Canada. I heard of their products, which dispensed small “doses” of THC via vape pen or minty edible tablets (in Florida, only the vape pens are available), with slick marketing that promised they were “formulated for your well-being,” that they could help “unlock the benefits of cannabis to help you take control of your health and happiness naturally.” They sell their doses in six different “formulas”—bliss, sleep, calm, relief, arouse, and passion — that combine THC and CBD and leave the specifics of those claims up to users.

In Theory…
This, again, was not an entirely original idea. All sorts of folks (indigenous people worldwide, Cheech & Chong) have been using cannabis for health and wellness benefits of many kinds for many years. And in 2018, the excellent author Michael Pollan brought the idea of microdosing with psilocybin (shrooms) to the masses with his book How to Change Your Mind. CBD oil, which I tried a few months ago and found anecdotally ineffective in a broad range of tinctures, coffee infusions and bath bombs. (Though I did feel pampered.) I started taking small doses of cannabis every time my honey-do list included housework. (I live in the beautiful state of California, where weed is as legal and easily obtained as a Slurpee.)
The Dose Dial is an interesting contraption. It’s how Apple would design a weed mint tablet dispenser; it also honestly looks like birth control. It’s kid-proof: to get your little tablet, you have to slide open a little door, press down on a button, and turn a wheel on its side with your thumb. Out pops your tablet, which at 3.7mg is less than, say, a 10mg gummy, but not that much less (dials are $30 and there are 30 tablets per dial). In a perfect world, it’d be just the right amount of weed for me to be focused enough to take on a list of chores but also zoned out enough to make said chores a breeze. I could creatively multitask—say, puzzle my way through a problem with a story while doing the dishes.
