The day: Halloween. The time: approximately 7 p.m. The errand: Rite Aid, for face wash…. The day: Halloween. The time: approximately 7 p.m. The errand: Rite Aid, for face wash.

While entering my heavily overused debit-card PIN number at the register, I overheard the cashier mentioning to another customer that the candy was already on sale to make room for the Christmas stock, which was set to be put in place over the next three days.

When did Halloween magically morph immediately into Christmas? Why doesn’t Thanksgiving get a cut of the deal? Have the turkeys of the world united in an effort to get us to forget about the day devoted to gluttony and football because of their presence as the centerpiece of the feast?

Rite Aid isn’t the only entity seemingly paid off by the turkeys looking to save their skins — or feathers, perhaps.

The next day, I was getting my daily “Saved by the Bell” fix. There’s no question that the episode that day was quality, classic TV programming. But the Christmas episode where Zack kicks some game to a homeless chick seemed a little premature, seeing that it was merely the first day of November.

Something must be done before Thanksgiving succumbs to the same fate as Pauley Shore’s career and disappears off the face of the Earth.

I’m at a loss as to why people so easily overlook this holiday in the first place. Wait — no, I’m not. Greedy miscreants choose to forget about the Pilgrims’ and Native Americans’ premiere feast because they are blinded by the glimmer of light bouncing off the satin ribbon of the gift-wrapped presents waiting for them just beyond Turkey Day. Unlike every other sane, Christmas tree-hugging member of the human race, instead of associating presents with glee and cheer, I associate them with unnecessary pressure and stress.

For whatever reason, I don’t even know who the hell I’m supposed to buy gifts for. Naturally, you have the requisite purchases for immediate family and extended family. Done and done. Even this seemingly simple task is getting harder, seeing as I’m pretty sure I’ve already bought at least one of every item available at the Pitt store.

Then, you move on to friends. The majority of my compadres are broke-ass college students like me. I can’t help but feel a little hypocritical if I buy them something when I claimed I couldn’t afford to purchase all my required reading books this semester. Since I’m broke as a joke anyway, all I’d be able to get them is some pointless piece of junk, which would serve no purpose except to say, “Hey look! I wasted perfectly good booze money on you!” If that’s not friendship, I don’t know what is. But I’d rather just have the booze.

After these people have been considered, you can’t forget your pals who still hung out with you even when braces were fastened to your teeth, when your eyebrows were un-waxed and unsightly, and when acne ran rampant over your face. These blasts from the past are still great friends, but honestly, how often do you even see them?

Better yet, do you know them well enough to buy them anything more than the ever-reliable gift set from Bath and Body Works, which just sends the subliminal message, “You have bad hygiene. Here’s some fancy soap to help.”

Gift-giving is about as much fun as getting a root canal. This is before spending years trying to park at an overstuffed mall and braving sale aisles flooded with women armed with double strollers are factored into the equation.

Thanksgiving doesn’t have all the extra baggage that Christmas drags along with it. And it’s not as scary as Halloween. It deserves some respect and shouldn’t be overlooked.

Sit back, relax, talk it up with those who contributed to your genetic makeup — and pass the mashed potatoes down this way.

Colleen Bayus has no shame about her love for turkey. E-mail her at [email protected].