Short weeks like this are weird, aren’t they? I’m all discombobulated. Part of me is all, “yippee skippy! only more day til the weekend!” and another part is definitely like, “SWEET CAKE POP I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO BEFORE THE WEEKEND!” and then I breathe into a paper bag. I was driving in my car today when Carrie Underwood starting singing “Jesus Take the Wheel” and I dissolved into a million crocodile tears for no particular reason. I blame it on the short week.
In other news, fall is deliciously close. Kids are back in school. The weather has a little nip in it at night. Starbucks is serving Pumpkin Spice Lattes. Heck, my girlfriends and I even decided to watch “Hocus Pocus” the other night to ring in the season properly.
Speaking of Halloween, I stumbled across an unbelievably unfortunate picture at my Grandma’s house a couple weeks ago.
I have just reached a new level of self-loathing.
That’s me. October 31st, 1995. And before you think I was appropriately dressed up as a pumpkin, let me stop you. I’m inappropriately dressed up as a TOMATO. Pumpkins are adorable Halloween costumes for toddlers. Tomato Halloween costumes are never adorable for prepubescent 11-year-olds. The worst part? I BEGGED MY MOM TO MAKE THIS COSTUME FOR ME. What part of me thought that that would be a cool costume?
Honestly though, the whole combination is just a train wreck. Not just the costume. It’s also the over sized glasses. It’s that haircut I got when I was going through some kind of tomboy phase. It’s the fact that I can’t even look directly at the camera because I’m of the shame.
You know who could rock that haircut and look completely legit? My husband. We’re so soul mates.