The trick of Halloween...

The leaves have nearly fallen off my most impressive trees in the yard. Their naked limbs reaching up for the grey sky as if they are asking for their leaves back.

I fought the passage of Summer to Autumn and now it's nearly over. I missed the best part. I hate when I do things like that.

My jack-o-lanterns will be carved tonight in preparation for my favorite holiday.

The boy has finally decided that he's too old to go out collecting for candy.

Why does he feel too old? I don't think I'm too old, society says I'm too old.

I guess it's the one day of the year that you are allowed to be whoever or whatever you wanted to be when you grew up.

a princess
a pirate
an astronaut
a monkey
a witch
a faerie
a vampire
a cartoon character...

This year I'm going to be a magician's assistant.

flat tires...

I put my shoes on the other day and roamed around the house like I normally do.

Not too long into my puttering, my shoes felt loose.

Really loose.

Like fall-off-your-feet loose.

I checked the one shoe and found the whole side had desintigrated. When I checked the other shoe, I found the same situation.

My shoes gave up the ghost at the same exact time.

How's that for you?

A little off the top..

My paper cut hurts.

One of the many hazards of my job of shuffling papers all day I guess.

I suck on the wound. Careful not to bleed on my desk.

Why is it that a paper cut hurts so much? It's not that big but it stings as if it were on fire.

My shadow approaches and watches me curse the paper for inflicting such harm to my now tender digit.

She tells me she just cut herself too and proudly shows me the wound to prove it.

I tell her that it looks painful.

She smiles at me and tells me that we're exactly alike.

She worries me.

Why am I such a flypaper for freaks?

Uncle! I say Uncle, dammit...

A good friend of mine once told me that to mentally fight a cold is the worst thing you can do for yourself.

If you welcome it, it won't be so bad and therefore leave you quicker.



After this week I'm convinced my friend is an idiot. Or I am.



I welcomed the stupid cold. Not in those exact words, but more like, "Alright, I give."

It roared over my head and parked itself in my nose.

Now when I talk I sound like I have marbles jammed in my sinuses. (or as I sound "barbles jabbed id by siduses")

That wouldn't be so bad except for the fact that my headache and sore throat are killing me.

I now feel the need to breathe all over my friend and see how she feels when she welcomes the hell I stepped into.

I hate being sick.

Pumped...

He arrived unannounced like he usually does.

I think he does it not because he forgets to call but as a challenge.

The you can't tell me what to do attitude emanates from his very being.

His visit is uncomfortable. He borders on being pushy and he helps himself to cookies and coffee.

Since we were just a pit-stop, he quickly gathers his things and leaves.

He drives away not knowing that his afternoon is going to take a weird turn.

I feel for the people he's going to encounter after my home.

Because he is a gruff person on a good day and he just drank what is tantamount to jet fuel and ate several sugar cookies to cap it off.

He's going to be jacked up like a spider-monkey on Mountain Dew.

And then I start to laugh.