Halloween Fail

This is going to be one of this slightly whiny blog posts. You've been properly warned.

As of 4 o'clock in the afternoon on October 31, I have no Halloween costume, no plans for the night, and no real desire or motivation to do anything approaching fun for a holiday I generally enjoy. I haven't carved a Jack O' Lantern this year or put up any seasonally spooky decorations. I don't even have any candy, so I feel like there are even odds that my apartment door will be covered in eggs when I wake up in the morning. Luckily, there are not really any children in my neighborhood, so the only people walking around in costumes nearby will be hipster chicks allowing themselves to dress up like the girls they spend the rest of the 364 days of the year judging, their douchey boyfriends wearing some variation on an ironic "Joe the Plumber" or 70's high school gym class getup, nerds in painstakingly applied Joker makeup, tons of pirates (still!), and lots and lots of Sarah Palins (both of the actual female and drag queen variety.) And each and every one of these people will curse themselves and say "damnit, I didn't think anybody else was going to think of this clever costume idea!"

Maybe it's because I'm just tired lately, maybe it's because I'm depressed, maybe it's because I'm too broke to justify spending money on a Halloween costume I'm only going to wear once, or maybe I'm just getting a little too old for Halloween (this theory, though, goes in cycles... I expect you get old enough to love Halloween all over again within a few years of 26.) Maybe I'm just too anxious about the election in four days to think about Halloween. Or maybe I'm just being cynical. I'm not excited in a way that makes me sad because I want to be excited, and I know that by Saturday morning, I will regret not doing anything other than drinking a bottle of whiskey. Which is probably my big plan for the night.

I had such big plans... I was going to be Daniel Plainview from "There Will Be Blood" and tell people in a crappy Daniel Day Lewis impression that "I am an Oil Man, and this is my Son and partner, H.W..." (My dog Reggie was going to be H.W.) But I didn't get it together, and now I'm just bitter and might have to murder a preacher with a bowling pin to make myself feel better about it. I also considered going as Short Round from "Temple of Doom" and making Reggie dress up as Indiana Jones. But for some reason, I just don't care. But I do care that I don't care, if that makes any sort of sense. I don't know why my passions have cooled, but they have, and it's a bit heartbreaking.

One thing I do know... it's not you Halloween, it's me. I've lost my passion, but you're still great. Maybe we can try it again next year, when I'm feeling like a fun person again.