For the last thirteen years, I have lived at addresses with a publicly accessible front door.

For the first several years, I was actually excited at the prospect of trick or treaters. I’d decorate, get candy, be costumed and keep my early Halloween evening plans free and sober, in case kids stopped by. None ever did. I stopped buying candy (because I’d end up eating it), I stopped decorating, and then I stopped being home on Halloween. I slept during the hours kids went trick or treating and prawled around San Francisco until dawn.

Then I moved to the suburbs. I was still unpacking, last year, when Halloween came around, so I didn’t decorate, but I bought some candy just in case. Nobody rang my doorbell and I ended up throwing out candy (after it sat around for ages with me trying not to eat it). I assumed my complex doesn’t get trick or treaters, and sure enough, this year, the complex management hosted a party in the common area for the families. So I assumed no trick or treating.

I’m getting my first ever trick or treaters.

And I’m hiding in my room, watching Netflix with the sound turned down as my doorbell keeps ringing. I have literally no candy or snacks. I cleaned my pantry earlier this week, all “Let’s be healthy for a change.”

Next year, kiddos, next year….