It's Halloween. Samhain. And me, a semi-lapsed Pagan. I should be out dancing and chancing in the moonlight, gettin' my Witch on, but nooo. I have to spend the evening in Hell. Picture the scene: I'm trying to make not only the rest of the stuff for my herbal final tomorrow, but also the labels that go on them (which was actually harder than the actual recipes; there was much angsting for a time at Chez Primrose). Meanwhile, kids are knocking on my door right and left, and every. single. time, my dog decides that there are Intruders and barks. A LOT. VERY LOUDLY. So I'm back and forth between the computer, the kitchen and the front door with a pounding headache from my dog's vocalizing. *whinges on*
You may feel sorry for me now. I deserve it.
P.S. A couple of the costumes were really cute. There were three older teens dressed like S'mores (a box of grahams, a bag of marshmallows, and a Hershey bar), and one itty bitty ickle Harry Potter. I fairly died of the cute.