Halloween finally arrived. The day of glorious weirdness I’ve been waiting for all month. And naturally, I woke up at 4:14 a.m. because my body apparently wanted to pregame the day with exhaustion. Who needs sleep when there’s candy corn to contemplate and costumes to coordinate?

By the time I hit the office, I’d already had two cups of coffee and one existential conversation with my reflection about whether glitter counts as professional attire. (It does, if you sparkle with conviction.)

And oh, what a day it was. The kind that makes you grateful you work somewhere where people can hand out candy and hold serious meetings in costume. There I was, talking strategic initiatives while my wig wiggled dangerously close to a colleague’s coffee cup. PowerPoint meets pumpkin spice chaos. The sweet spot between heart and hilarity.

But the day wasn’t done with me yet. As the sun set and the wind howled, I dragged my 4:14 a.m. self out to see the lit-up pumpkin patches  jack-o’-lanterns swaying like little orange ships in a gusty sea. It was oddly poetic. A reminder that joy, like a candle flame, flickers but keeps on glowing even when the wind tries to boss it around.

So yes, I’m tired. Yes, my wig is slightly curled up and frizzed out from the breeze. But I showed up in costume, in heart, and in laughter. And that’s the magic of Halloween. We get to be a little ridiculous while remembering who we are underneath the masks.

Now, if only my broom could fly me straight to bed.