Notice - no title up there? That’s exactly like me. Muted. That’s because I still.can’t.fucking.talk. Yesterday, when I took the damn sick day, I could talk. I had cramps, I was snotty, (that’s full of snot, not a description of my personality okay?), I had a hacking cough. Today? I woke up and, seriously, not a sound will come out. (Mr. Hot doesn’t seem to mind this situation….and the people at work? Dammit. They can stop laughing any time.)

Nothing hurts (well, except that I can’t talk and that hurts my heart, because I want to yell at some of these idiots) but I’m feeling damn out of control. (That’s your cue to nod in sympathy.)

Send candy. (No, wait, I pledged No Candy. Damn. Send cheese! and Wine!)

So, today is Halloween. We live out a two-lane country road, about a mile from the main drag. Our subdivision has 7 houses, each on an acre lot. No one is crazy enough to come see us on Halloween. Last year, the only guy that showed up for treats was the gas man. Honest. He knocked on the door, said something about the neighbors across the road “smelling gas” and went down into our basement.

(Hey! that would be a great beginning to a screenplay for a new scary movie - “The Gasman Always Rings Twice”.)

After he came back up and said that he didn’t smell any gas in our basement, so everything should be fine, I gave him the entire bowl of Snickers miniature candy bars. Because, y’know, I hate Snickers - if I’d have bought Milky Ways, he’s have been walking away empty-handed.

He laughed and said that Halloween and Thanksgiving were his two favorite days to check out possible leaks. No shit. Funny, we never smelled gas. And the neighbors that called him? Weren’t even home. Let’s be optimistic and believe the neighbors evacuated, and not that DTE Energy reps regularly make up gas leaks to get free candy.

Now you watch. Because I didn’t buy anything to pass out, we’ll get someone ringing our bell. I’ll have to raid the change jar on the counter. Or maybe I could pass out Milkbones. I think there’s an extra box in the cabinet. Poopy won’t mind too much.

—- Or, Halls throat lozenges! Because they’re doing me no-effing-good right now. —-