Autumn is kind of a downer. Fewer hours of sunlight. Trees and flowers slowly shriveling. Maybe I have seasonal affective disorder. We’ve had plenty of sunshine lately, though. And it was 74°F two days ago. In MA. Crazy. But now it’s 25° cooler. After we set our clocks back tonight, the sun will be setting around 4:30 in the afternoon. Cooler… darker. Bummer.

Spring is my favorite season. By the time spring arrives in New England, we have pretty much had enough of winter. Especially when we have a particularly harsh one – like last year – with over 9 feet of snow. I do like snow, but seriously, what the fuck was that? A bazillion snowstorms last winter… and 74° at the end of October? That’s messed up! Are we on our way to the apocalypse? I hope it comes this way – strange, illogical weather patterns – instead of, say, zombies.

Because that shit freaks me the hell out.


The first time I watched The Walking Dead was partway through season one. I was never going to watch, but my husband kept telling me how awesome it was. Eventually, I caved. The moment that episode ended, I turned to my husband.

‘What the hell is wrong with you that you love this show?’

He had a good laugh. But seriously, most of the time, that show is dreadfully hopeless. After some [many] of the episodes, I sit there staring at the screen thinking, ‘What’s the point? Everyone’s going to eventually zombify anyway. What’s the fucking point of going through hell to survive?’ Yet here I am, season six, still watching. Dammit! What is wrong with me?

I already told my husband… ‘When the zombies come, throw me out as a distraction so you can take the kids and run. You know, if you wanna run.’ Because no way am I living in that fucked up world. No cure. No escape. No hope. Jesus, I have hopelessness issues now. I imagine I’d last about four minutes in a zombie apocalypse before losing my sanity.

Eat me first.

Oh, speaking of eating, the kids and I trick-or-treated for less than 1 hour. They did well…

halloween candy.

Happy Halloween.


About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Hawaii where she could learn to surf. She loves books, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.
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2 Responses to apocalypse.

  1. Blair says:

    Oh, man… I love TWD. Going out in a zombie apocalypse would be pretty exciting. You can’t just sacrifice yourself first — you gotta go Michonne-style. Grab a katana. Go down kicking some zombie-ass. On a more serious note: the worst part of winter to me is how dark it gets so early. All the darkness gets depressing after awhile.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I asked my husband to get me one of those s.a.d. light therapy boxes for Christmas. But I think I need it sooner than that! I guess I should _try_ to fight the zombies. But I think I’d prefer a gun… so I wouldn’t have to get as close. I get a bit squeamish!

      Liked by 1 person

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