Dear “People–Who–Get–Way–Into–Halloween,”
I admire you. I truly do. With Halloween quickly approaching, I see you getting into your stride. Drinking your pumpkin spice lattes, eating your pumpkin spice pastries, living your pumpkin spice lives. But I swear to the dark lord Satan himself, if you ask me what I’m being for Halloween one more time, I will go all smashing pumpkins, and I’m not talking about the super cool alt–rock band.
You want to know what I’m being for Halloween? Drunk. Call me a party pooper, or “not in the holiday spirit,” but I have had the exact same costume every year since I was seven: nothing. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I went to a party freshman year where they wouldn’t let me in unless I was in costume. I think I put on ears and some face paint. I was a cat or something, I don’t know.
My point is, you’ve had your costume planned since January, and if I put as much effort into anything as you put into it, I’d probably be able to figure out how to get people to stop asking me what I’m being for Halloween. It’s not that I don’t want to join in the fun or go to parties or have something to make small talk about with acquaintances during the last week of October, it’s that I literally just do not care at all. It might make me sounds Scrooge–ish (wrong holiday, I know), but it’s how I feel.
Truthfully, I wish I could be like you. I want to find innovative ways to make costumes out of paper mâché. I want to find that perfect item at Urban Outfitters to complete my hipster Disney princess look. But I just can’t be bothered to try. I only end up thinking about the work I could be doing or, even, the TV I would rather be watching instead.
So I’ll probably go out with you on Halloween if you ask, just don’t expect me to be all that into it. Normally I’m a pretty fun person, I swear, but after all the “what are you supposed to be”'s I’m going to get on Halloween, I’ll probably be pretty cranky. It can be my costume.
Sincerely,
Haunted by Halloweeners
