Costumes, no masks.

It’s about time to depress the central nervous system, after the day I had. Tipple of choice? Ozeki-chan and Sho Chiku Bai-chan.

Let’s just say work, and leave it at that. Costumes for Halloween seen so far? Guy in line at the grocery store as Wolverine (his nails looked perfectly normal, but maybe he had his claws retracted, you know?). Randomly in the frozen-food aisle? Bearded guy in a bathrobe, pretending at Jedi-dom. His girlfriend had her Princess Leia getup on with a capital-O, for real. I saw a guy in the parking lot who looked like a dead ringer for late Dylan (pencil mustache, cowboy hat and all).

My costume tomorrow, if any? Probably my PJs and slippers. A robe would be nice, but I’d have to go by a store to get one. (They keep it meat-locker cold up in the office, so it would come in handy.)

A dream from a few days ago.

Three black women I’d never seen before in my life (and who looked like no one whose face I could immediately place) were wearing white wedding dresses and walking around and around a big white soundstage on stilts. Watching them, I became aware of a sense that someone wanted me to find the women’s marriage prospects to be as unlikely as the likelihood of finding them walking around on stilts.