Outside: *is snowing at an unseasonably early October 10th*
My inner time goblin that is terrible at their job: crimmas?
Me: No. It’s not even Halloween. It’s not even my birthday yet.
Goblin: but snowing. It Crimmas.
Me: no.
Goblin: CHANUKAH!
Me: No! It’s late this year!
Goblin: want… L A T K E
Me: you know? Time is an illusion, especially when it comes to food. Its latke time.
My brain has decided the weather means we’re stuck in perpetual evening for some reason? I keep saying “have a great evening” to customers even at, like, eight in the morning.
It dark out.
Time for hibernate.
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