Boo humbug

By and large, I'm enjoying fall this year. The weather has been lovely, if blustery, the trees look rad, and the farmers' markets sell awesome apples. I even got to sleep in an extra hour today and still make it to church on time. But I'm totally annoyed by Halloween. Whether it's dodging nearly nude college students on my way home from work Saturday night, or noticing that a third of Target has been taken up with candy displays, I feel only curmudgeonly. "What I stupid holiday," I mumble, biking past the green with its black-cat "Boo Haven" signs. "Why does anyone find this fun?" I ask, stuffing stale candy corn in my mouth at the library. As I'm not usually this misanthropic, I've been wondering why I suddenly hated something that seems to make little children and single people happy, and I think I've finally figured it out. When you're in Play School, every single bloomin' day is Halloween: wear outlandish costumes, put on lots of makeup, pretend to be someone else, blah, blah, blah. It's a busman's holiday, except my bus is the make-believe sparkly kind. The last thing I want is more theatricalism and escape: give me a holiday where you come home at five pm, eat dinner with your family and watch network television. Now that sounds fantastic.