crashpow

Today was... well, different. I would say more, but alas, I can't really talk about new job. Remember? Yeah. Anyway, needless to say, I have been given an empowered position. This was fun, until I messed up and nearly had about six VP's banging on my cube wall. (If I had a door, they'd be breaking it down.) Crisis averted, but I definately shed a few stress tears this afternoon. Yes, OK, I cried at work. But I kept facing my computer and blamed fall allergies. Does anyone have fall allergies? Because I fully made them up.
I wore my fleece rasta snowboard hat this evening. I bought four bags of fun sized candy. And how many trick-ot-treaters came a-knockin'? Not a one. This was thoroughly disappointing. You see, I grew up in the woods. The boondocks. A two-stoplight, one-horse town. We used to drive half an hour to the suburbs, so that we could go trick-or-treating in a place where the houses weren't spaced out by miles and they had streetlights. Real streetlights!
All this to say, when nobody showed up at my door this evening, I was two things. Disappointed and relieved. Disappointed because I've never once answered the door to a trick-or-treater, but relieved because my faith in humanity is slightly restored; I live across the street from a pretty seedy strip club, and if parents were bringing their kids here to beg for candy, well... I'd be a little bit sad.
Then again, stripper's kids gotta get them some Reese's, too.