Post-Halloween Wrap-Up

So, Halloween has come and passed. As it turns out, there's not a whole hell of a lot of kids in my neighborhood. I mean, I passed out candy to about twenty children. Twenty! How lame is that?

My costume (such as it was) turned out pretty good. As it turns out, I'm very good at making myself look like hell.

Here's a picture of myself and my girlfriend.



We're like zombie twins. Except, you know, we're not related. Or zombies, really.

Nevermind.

The pumpkin in the foreground was carved by my girl in the span of ten minutes, which I'm sure she did just to show off. She even has layering effects. The overall theme was copied from a pumpkin that I carved last year, so I can lay claim (however flimsy) to some credit for being the original "stick-the-knife-in-the-pumpkin" guy.

Yeah, I'm lame. Shaddap.

So, as I mentioned before, I'm reading a pretty damn good book, which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because it's not often that I read a book that really sucks me in. A curse, because I start falling into my old reading habits.

What are my old reading habits, you ask? Well, you can usually tell that I'm reading a good book by identifying the following symptoms:

• Unusual irritability.
• Typically induced by interruptions to my reading, including (but not limited to) breathing, eating, social interaction, work, or sleep.
• I say "unusual" because I'm never exactly all roses and sunshine.
• Impatience.
• Preoccupation.
• Twitching limbs.
• Bloodshot eyes.
• Excessive pontification.
• Weight loss.
• Disregard for hygeine.

When I was a kid, I would snarl at anyone that interrupted my reading. The house could be on fire, and I'd still be angry if I was in the middle of a good chapter. My parents at one point, despairing of ever getting me outside, once punished me by telling me I couldn't read for a day. You can't even imagine how upset I was...probably because you're a well-adjusted individual that didn't have to be threatened with sunlight and fresh air.

Now I'm sitting here at work, helpless to stop my twitching leg, trying to wish my computer's clock forward so that I can return home and start reading again.

I'm going to be a desolate shell of a man once I'm finished.