The Part Where I Actually Went

It was 7:45 and I was already in my pajama pants. That's the honest version. I had the TV on, some rerun, I wasn't really watching, and my neighbor texted asking if I was coming to the block thing, the little Halloween street thing two streets over that I had technically said 'maybe' to two weeks ago and then mentally un-committed to approximately six times since.

I stared at my phone for a while. I did the math on how tired I was. I looked at my pajama pants. And then, and I genuinely cannot explain this, I put on jeans. That was it. That was the whole decision. Once the jeans were on I figured I had to follow through.

It was cold. Not unbearably cold, but October-at-night cold, the kind where you're glad you grabbed a jacket. The street was covered in leaves and every third house had a jack-o-lantern going and it smelled like candle wax and someone's fireplace. I didn't know most of the people there. I wandered around for two hours by myself and it was somehow completely fine. Someone's dad offered to take a photo on his disposable camera he was using for the night, which, honestly iconic, I respect that. I looked at a lot of pumpkins.

heading home. tired. happy.

I ate a mini Snickers that someone was handing out from a bowl on their porch like it was trick-or-treat. I was not going to turn that down.

I got home around ten, sat on my bed, and thought: I would have regretted not going. Not dramatically. Just in that small, quiet way where you know you talked yourself out of the right thing. I've been thinking lately about how many times I've done exactly that, said 'maybe' until it became 'no' without me technically deciding anything. The gap year stuff. The running club back in April when I almost didn't show up the first morning. This is smaller than both of those. But it's the same reflex. The jeans thing worked tonight. I'm going to try to remember that.

this pumpkin had better craftsmanship than anything I could ever do