Costuming anxiety 

It occurred to me this evening that I don’t have an awesome costume to wear to school tomorrow. 

I mean, there’s Elvis . . .   

But I did that at school last year (although this year’s ensemble for the Monster Mash Pub was clearly better than what I wore in class in 2014!), and I’d prefer to do something fresh.

Or nothing at all. 

I’m experiencing extreme Hallowe’en fatigue. Maybe it’s because most of my efforts in setting up spookiness have been going to the haunted house event, but even that was a struggle for a while, and continues to be — the thing would have fizzled out if not for my team keeping me going. I used to love this time of year, going all out with decorations and planning costum parties for Jack, but lately, I’ve been wishing I could fast-forward to the end. 

I understand, too, why my mum didn’t express the same enthusiasm for decoration and costumes that I did in my teens. She was probably just as worn out as I am now. It’s hard to get the extra energy and motivation when all you want to do in the darkening days and watery sunshine is sleep and eat fattening foods.

I suspect I might have gotten more into the spirit if we’d planned more to do at home, inviting people over or setting aside time for a proper Samhain ritual and dinner, but that would also require thorough house cleaning and organizing of the kind I meant to get at all summer and never achieved. And on top of that, we simply don’t have the space.

Anyway . . . As hubby likes to say, it is what it is. Two more nights of the event, in which I will be stretching my cast and crew thin as I lose kids to the local Hallowe’en dance onFriday  and trick-or-treating on Saturday. Starting to doubt my / our decision to run the thing that night, but the hope remains that people will want to explore our haunted house on Hallowe’en night, in their own costumes. And then there will be the cleaning up on Sunday. 

I will be living off coffee by Monday morning, I suspect. I don’t like doing that. It makes my chest feel funny.

If it all works out, and the kids and visitors have a good time, and I can avoid embarrassing myself, it will have been worth it. Well, it already has been, but I’m struggling with seeing the positives. The little negatives always loom so large when I’m like this.

The new tattoo I got yesterday has helped a little. Reminds me that the story continues.

  
But I still don’t know what to wear tomorrow.

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