Halloween freak out

The only thing the trick-or-treaters left were

the Starbursts, which is essentially strawberry sealing wax.

(Yeah..like that's going to stop me from devouring them anyway)

The branch  hanging ghost with the guttural laugh and the spooky arm movements  used to scare Luke into behaving like a good poodle: like he  just had an exorcism,  now.. he has no reaction at all. Literally, zombies could invade our property and he'd go right back to his nap. 

 This is the reality of owning an aging dog, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that he still wants to chase rabbits and bark at strangers and hump your comforters.

My morning routine, the only reason I get up in the morning, will no longer be available come February.

 I do not WANT to do my cryptograms and mind-sharpening puzzles on a digital  screen, I want the scent of the newspaper and the blobs caused by leaky streamlined pens as I do the LA TIMES crossword the old fashioned way--with cockiness and frustration.

Weeks ago, I uncovered a very valuable 8mm film after it had gone missing for four decades, and it's the only film the tech company in Arizona hasn't converted to be easily viewed on line..  Yes, it may eventually be recovered and yes, it was lost anyway, what does it matter if it disintegrated in the lab and won't ever  be found again?   I still got to see tons of videos of a younger, slimmer, cuter me...and evidence of what a horrible photographer was when I tried to take a film of my senior class trip in 1973.  

Nope..that didn't conquer the blues.

 The only thing that still rings true from the past is that I'm still a shitty photographer.

The solicitations were on a constant loop...I  already donated!!  I change predictions more than I change my underwear!  I'm euphoric one day and terrified the next.  Leave me alone, callers!!  You know better than to telephone  me, and you must know where I stand by now.  I'm either going to be exhaling on Wednesday morning, or I'll be  setting up for a shiva in my house of mourning.  Stop flooding my landline and my email!

I was just about to scream at the top of my lungs, "Calgon..Take Me Away!" when I discovered that if I brush my bangs off of my forehead in a different direction than I usually do, and clip the hair while it's still damp, I can kill that cowlick!

But if the best thing that happened to me in the last twenty-four hours was finding out how to  temporarily tame a cowlick, then Calgon..my bags are still packed.

I'm ready to go.