I cry, because I will laugh if I don't.

So this Halloween I once again realized that being the age I currently am is grossly restricting. I can't trick or treat any more,which really is more of a let down than I let on. I don't look the part, and don't want to be a creeper. And I'm not yet old enough to enter any establishment that might offer festivities of some kind  [It took me five minutes to write that last sentence because I was so distracted by Helena Bonham Carter on my TV in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.] 

I'm tired. I'm really tired. Not just because it's after four in the morning, but because October has been bizarre and exhausting. My brain is more fatigued than ever from the worst and best occurrences of my life. Surprisingly the worst has taken a much appreciated back seat. And my legs are falling apart due to the obscene amount of walking I've done, which won't be over with until maybe after the All Souls Procession next week. The arch of my right foot that for a few years has been giving me trouble on and [mostly] off is acting up more than ever. When I walk on it bare it feels like jerky that's about to rip, and the sensation spreads through my foot into a few of my toes. Not pain, but shifting. This has also extended into my leg a bit, and because I've been having to compensate with my left foot, it's begun to hurt as well. Waa. This could all be compared to how I'm doing upstairs, except I can't feel it in my muscles or tendons. It's like helium fighting miniature anvils in my organs and snakes all over my skin. Am I complaining? Yes. But not only. 

I passed an accordion player tonight on fourth avenue and seriously considered stealing his instrument and running as fast as I could away. And later I got a water from the fridge for Carley and a boy in the box office gave me a nice look.

I've still got pounds of makeup on my face, and the lower half of my costume on. I'd say it's about time I wash up and go to bed. Happy Halloween. Happy. Halloween.