In case it hasn’t been obvious, I’ve been kind of stumbling through these. My mind has been elsewhere. My days are filled with numbers; mind-numbing to a person so based in words. My soccer team is in shambles. My Facebook and Twitter feeds are full of politics.

Part of the problem I’m having with October lies in the fact that I just don’t think I can ever surpass last year’s full-immersion October. Pumpkin patches and corn mazes and a day in wine country for fall crush, there’s simply no way I can ever duplicate it.

I ate an apple today. That’s about as Octoberific as I’ve been able to muster. Thankfully, we’re not quite at the halfway point so there’s plenty of time to catch up.

I’ll do better. We’ll get this thing done.

Today, October friends, I give you candy corn.

First created in the 1880s, candy corn has become a staple of the October diet. You may not like it but, if someone offers it to you, you eat it. You can’t help yourselves. There’s no shame in it. Years ago, I found a quote online that referred to candy corn as the crack cocaine of the confectionary world. I just went looking for the source of said quote and, stupidly, found a link to last year’s blog post about fancy corn. Stupid internet.

It’s Sunday. You’re all lazing around. Make your own.

And here’s a horrible idea that I know you all are just DYING to try: fancy corn martinis.

ZOMG Cancy corn vodka. Please note: this post was made in March. March, people.

One more. Now, you can bathe in the scent of candy corn. I’m not sure why.