I hate Halloween.  Ma Sky is going to roll her eyes while reading this because she knows exactly how I get about this kind of crap.  I'm still deciding if it's even worth making a list of reasons why I hate Halloween.  The whole freaking 'holiday' gives me the same feeling in my stomach as school picture day does- whatafreakingwasteoftimeandmoneyandenergy...I will not smile!  Take a look at my school photos for twelve years, trust me, I didn't.

One year, I dressed up as a skier.  I knew it even then; Halloween is a dumb joke, but I was going to get my candy's worth anyway.  I threw on a pair of Matt's old ski goggles, jumped into my snow pants and circled the neighborhood.  Twice.  Another year I was a dentist- scrubs, that's it.  Easy does it, I say.

You can imagine my attitude when my manager announced that we will all be participating in a Halloween-dress-up contest amongst all of the store locations.  I rolled my eyes at the meeting, and made it clear that I would NOT be a part of any Halloween shenanigans, whatsoever.  People giggled and agreed, and I thought that I had made myself clear;  I would not be scheduled for Halloween.

Wrong.  Only five of us were scheduled yesterday- me being one of them.  The group decided on a theme two days prior to, and I was told I would be 'The Bearded Lady'.  Yeah, sure- nofreakingway, but thanks.  After a chat with my manager about being a team player, I stormed into a Halloween store, took one look at the mile long waiting line for the checkout, and stormed right back out.  The day before the H-word, I found another store, snatched up a fuzzy black beard, wasted 4.99 plus tax dollars (a perfectly good double shot grande latte, mind you) and threw it in a pile of clothes laying on my floor.  (I should address the pile..my internal Kayla has taken over the house- it's a messy hue of clean and dirty clothes mixed with littered magazines, books and nail polishes- sorry Jody)

Yesterday morning, I defiantly decided that I could wear jeans to work, if I had to bring a beard.  I could, and I would.  So I did.  I brought the beard, wore my comfy jeans, and claimed Bah Humbug on the whole ordeal.  There was a mime, a fat old man, a gypsy, an elephant- and a girl in jeans with a beard hanging out of her pocket.

I think I made my point.  I win.