By the End of This Post, I Will Morph Into a Murderous Pumpkin ...

Sweet Baby Jesus, y'all. I know I was shut in the last three-ish weeks with the world's worst panic attack, but how the fuck did I miss the Autumn Apocalypse?! Sure, I did spend the last 17 or so days in my bed, curtains drawn, my only exposure to the outside world a Pony Express-esque arrangement where takeout was transported via a chain of hand-offs between a fry cook, a delivery guy, my husband, and me. But with fall hysteria spreading as rapidly as it has, you would have thought that some of that pumpkin spice would have rubbed off