Tonight on the Hallmark Channel: A spooky tale to kick off the Fall season!

After a whole year living in Vermont, our plucky heroine Morgan, finds herself wrapped in a snuggly cable knit sweater, apple picking in an idyllic New England orchard. The crisp autumn air nipping at her skin. Everything smelling of cider donuts. Is that "Moonlight in Vermont" being chirped by the birds in the trees? Damn right. Its ADORABLE. Its Vermont. But after a misstep on the apple ladder, she tumbles backward, hitting the grass and knocking herself clean-out. While unconscious, she's visited by three ghosts - the ghosts of her past, present and future self.

The first super spooky ghost to visit her is a hideous amalgam of all the Hollywood Producers she's worked for in the past - the Ghost of Morgan Past. Picture Bill Murray in "Scrooged" crossed with Jabba the Hutt, then mixed in a caldron filled with herpes meds and discarded drafts of long forgotten Paul Walker (RIP) franchises. Morgan awakes in the orchard to find the hobgoblin producer ghost standing over her, barking that the coffee has TOO LITTLE SWEETENER and he doesn't have all fucking day so she better wake the fuck up now If she wants to even THINK about taking a fucking trip back in time. He's very cranky. So, the producer ghost snaps his ghost fingers and all of a sudden they're in a swirling void, where past scenes from her life whiz before her eyes. Each tableau is a former boss screaming at her. Belittling her. Reminding her that she's too stupid to be promoted. She's too uptight. She's too ugly and fat to accompany her boss to events or even be seen in person. Faster and faster they whiz past! One tableau shows the time a boss threw a party for every single member of the cast and crew and Morgan wasn't invited. Despite the fact they were shooting in another country. She wasn't invited but she did have to come over and deliver bags of limes in the middle of the party because they were all taking tequila shots and she was too incompetent to have read the future and realized this would be happening. But still, she delivered the bags and the when she entered the party, director of the movie stopped the everything and asked why she wasn't staying. Crickets chirped. Time stood still. And then her boss said she didn't need to be there....so she left back to her solo Air BNB a few blocks away. She gets to field angry texts and emails all night and then goes over in the morning to “pre clean” his place before the actual cleaners arrive, because her job was an actual nightmare. And Morgan, watching herself from afar, feels the shame and embarrassment burn her cheeks, all over again. How fun! Then she has to relive the time that a bro-exec slipped up, in front of all the male coworkers, and said the reason she was hired was because she wasn't attractive and therefore "safe" to be around. And at the time Morgan shrugged it off. Because everything was and is awful! And its not just bosses, oh no! She gets to see all of her shitty, snotty, former coworkers becoming executives and producers and selling bullshit scripts and buying insane Spanish revival houses up in the hills and going on fucking weekend trips to the Amalfi Coast, while she continued to toil in the same role year after year after year - schlepping Valentino suits and Nespresso makers (complete with frothing device) and spare bifocals and hand cream and you name it in her nerdy ass, 80lb backpack - just waiting for her time to come. For all those years to pay off. But the scenes keep coming, baby. She's back in Europe, with zero sleep, getting destroyed by a man who dresses like a Sassy Grandma, because she couldn't control the weather like some sort of busted Greek God. She's back watching herself get dumped on the side of the road in Upstate New York, in a snow drift, because her boss had “tired of her company”. Having to walk, without a coat, to a train platform a half a mile away which caused a severe asthma attack in the process. It was there, with mascara streaming down her face, freezing and wheezing on a train platform, two hours away from the city, that she briefly considered throwing herself on the tracks because she was too broke to pay for the ambulance a panicked coworker was begging to call for her over the phone. To add to the fun, she also gets to see the same boss ditch her at a party in Connecticut, literally peeling out in front of her, forcing her to figure out another way back to the city after having to take care of his evil mother for hours. And even better, the Ghost shows her the time, with SURPRISE the same boss, that she found a medical sample cup of bodily fluids in her desk on her very first day at the company. Thats not a joke - that really fucking happened! Oh boy, she gets to feel every fucking second of every fucking time she was made to feel less-than, and missed out on life. She gets to hear her last boss screaming at her because she had the nerve to not answer the phone at 10pm on Christmas Eve - the same day she buried her grandfather. And that same person yelled at her again after her Grandmother died a few months later and she dared to try get a flight to make it to visit her deathbed (reader: she died while Morgan was in flight). And Morgan sees all the dates she never had, and the vacations she never took, and the hours and hours and hours and hours she spent becoming a withered shell of herself for NOTHING, just like sad sack Charlie Fuckin’ Bucket. There was never a payoff or a promotion or a silver-lining. Nah, it was just self flagellation with no eternal payoff. And though Morgan knows it, seeing it again laid out so clearly, breaks her heart all over again. But instead of being sad, she gets angry. Like, REAL angry. Angela Bassett torching a car angry. But the person she’s angry at isn’t the asshole who never flushed his toilets and made her engage with his actual shit on a daily basis. Nope - she’s angry at herself and her own culpability. Angry that she let these fucking shitty men push her around and dishonor her for YEARS. And angry that she didn’t quit after the first one. Nope, she just kept fucking at it, man - over and over again. Letting these men plant the seed of her being unworthy. And letting that seed cultivate and take root for so long that it became imbedded in her DNA and grows out of her like vines - twisted around every vein in her body. So Morgan screams and screams and screams into the visions of her past. With every scene and every injustice she screams louder. Until, with a knowing laugh, the Ghost snaps his bony asshole fingers, and she's back into the apple orchard.

When Morgan awakes the second time, the Ghost of Morgan's Present is hovering above her! The second ghost is a warm and friendly one. A ghost who looks vaguely like the sensible actor Michael Gross. Only in Vermont, folks. LOL. Anywho, said ghost is dressed in head to toe LL Bean and carrying a reusable bag filled with root veggies and a lovely understated seasonal bouquet purchased from the local farmers market. Present Ghost politely asks if Morgan would like to see some scenes from her current life and also lets her know that there are apple cider donuts inside the bag and she really should help herself because they're delicious and a New England staple. Morgan of course says yes, because how can you say no to a really polite New England Ghost? So she piles into the Ghost's Subaru (because even otherworldly spirits in Vermont drive fucking Subarus) and they cruise out of the orchard and into a fog that becomes the four Seasons. The first season, Fall, when Morgan first decided to move. She sees herself in Brooklyn watching "BABY BOOM" and witnesses the light bulb flash inside her sleep deprived head, the exact moment she realized she wanted to live that sweet, sweet Nancy Meyers life. Then blammo!!! There’s Morgan buying a Jeep and driving to Vermont. The trees are teeming with apples and bees are buzzing and its all golden sunsets and romantic vistas. Theres her little house and little backyard and her little garden where she planted flowers and squash. She sees the time that she got her fat sweaty legs stuck in her Hunter Boots after an afternoon of weeding and planting pansies when she first moved. After realizing she was well and good stuck in those boots, after crying and thrashing around, she resorted to sitting outside for hours, nursing a beer and listening to country music. She was eventually able to wedge the suctioned rubber off her dumpy legs, but even now looking back, it doesn’t seem like such a terrible way to spend an afternoon. There are her best friends visiting and getting to explore the sugar shacks and meeting the handsome bartenders and watching 50 Shades of Grey together and cackling into the wee hours of the morning. And she sees herself venturing into the green mountains to discover all the strange little villages and horse farms and magical hideaways that this state has to offer. Then she sees the personal trainer she got after an ill-fated crush. The daily drives to Burlington for an hour and a half of torture with a man who belittled her strength and progress but who also, unfortunately, pushed her into paying for an additional SIX THOUSAND DOLLARS WORTH of personal training sessions. He said it was because she needed 5 days a week for half a year to make any dent in her garbage body, and then, surprise, stopped returning her texts and calls because he needed that exact amount to make rent.Cool. Cool. Cool. Haven’t worked through that codependency issue yet, thats for sure. There's also the time she accidentally sprayed revolutionary war tombstones with mud because she got her car stuck in the muck at a cemetery and ended up doing donuts trying to get out of the sludge. And then she sees the Fall turn to Winter and the snow fall and the $1,000 spent on snow tires. And another $1,000 spent on heating oil. And that crush? Turns out it wasn't real and the training? Not working, even though she FEELS better. And she watches Winter Morgan wake up daily with childlike wonder at the magical snowy wilderness outside her window. Deer hooves dot the snow and little red berries on the trees. Sometimes its so sweet and so precious that it makes her have an anxiety attack. Because she doesnt feel like she deserves that beauty or belongs in a place so pure. She sees the stacks and stacks of self help books that have slowly piled up on her bedside table over the months as she reads through them at night when she can’t sleep. And the batches of chicken soup she perfects. And late night frantic drives to the vet in the snow because her dog is having seizures again. And the time Linus ate an entire roast chicken, bones and all, and his x-ray looked like his stomach was a Voodoo burial ground because it was all chicken bones, and he almost died. So she spent three nights with him, crying and cradled to her chest re-watching Pollyanna, and if she’s being honest, Hayley Mills saved his life. And then there was her birthday. She went on a snowy hike into the woods and felt refreshed and renewed and alive. But then, as night crept in, the loneliness did too. And after walking around the little town for 30 min, she went back to her house defeated and figured staying in, again, was less of a bummer than sitting by herself and attempting to celebrate her birthday solo. Then there was the trying to drag a too-big Christmas tree from her car, through the snow, and into her house, only to find that there was some sort of rodent making a home in its branches. That was immediately followed by the subsequent screaming into the snowy void - cursing everything and everyone in that state and her life into a flaming abyss. If we’re being honest, there are A LOT of those scenes during the winter. Like, a LOT. Then there is Christmas Day, when she sliced her finger open on a broken French Press and got snowed in and had to spend the entire day alone, albeit in some of the prettiest snow showers she's ever seen. There are the defiant days where she hiked in the subzero temps and slipped down icy hillsides. Trying to prove to the Universe that she’s a scrappy independent woman and EVERYTHING IS FINE. JUST FINE! Ugh, then there’s the trip to LA to see her friends, and, if she's being honest, to meet that crush. And even though she is well aware that this will #NOTENDWELL for her, she goes anyway. Because she’s trying to face her demons. And to conquer those fears of being unworthy and unloveable and unappealing. And she wildly misses her friends in LA and being a part of the industry, even though it broke her. Because, her friends are amazing. And the industry is all she’s ever know. So, she goes. And she spends too much money and too much time there and it throws her for a loop. And the crush? She meets him and he’s lovely and kind and he’s definitely not interested. But she pats herself on the back, because she still fucking made the trip. Sure it was the equivalent of Bruce Willis going to make sure the bomb blew up the asteroid, because everyone knew it wasn’t going to end well, but she still fucking had to give it a shot. Even if she knew she wasn’t going to come back. And you know, thats something to be proud of, if you think about it. Facing that sort of rejection head-on in your late 30s is far worse and more painful than when you’re a kid. It’s like getting chicken pox - it sucks when you’re little, but that shit will kill ya as an adult. And then there's her getting back to Vermont, in the middle of the bomb cyclone, having gotten a too intense does of friendship and sunshine and she feels actually terrible and off and the misery is starting to take root. So she goes to Maine, as one does. She inadvertently rents a too romantic cabin for herself and her dogs and is equal parts mortified and cozy and if she’s being truthful, wants to get sucked into a void because she’s sick of being alone. Then, there was the depression that creeped into her bones and made itself at home without asking permission and overstayed its welcome. And there’s the produce stand where the creepy guy made her want to never go online again. And the job offers that never panned out. And the shoveling the driveway. And anxiety. And sadness. And the fucking old boss who made headlines and subsequent lawyers and trips to New York to give statements. And the comments from people who don’t know me about my supposed culpability and remorse. So much snow and cold and another $1,000 for MORE heating oil. And reaching the fucking end of the rope. And thinking what the fuck was the point of this? Why be so lonely and stuck with your thoughts and faults all day. And having to dissect them for hours on end, day after day after day. Its sickening. So we see her act out. Just months and months and months of being alone and just stuck with herself and her thoughts in her adorable house in an adorable town in the adorable snow. Only she didn’t feel adorable at all. She felt like the fucking Grinch crashing the Whooville roast beast party. And much like her past jobs, she was expecting some sort of payoff for doing the "hard thing". Only thats not how life works for her. It aint that easy. And the payoffs will never feel like a payoff. And so, even though it was Spring elsewhere, she was still trapped in the brown nothingness of her never-ending Winter. But eventually, the sky gets a little bluer, and the ground thaws out, and she gets to see herself starting a new job. And little by little, like the trees outside, secret bits of life start budding inside of her. And slowly but surely, she came back to life. She’s made some friends. And she gets recognized at the farmers market. And the fellas at the record store will chat with her. And she’s shared inside jokes with the guys at the bar next door. And she went to watch the local minor league baseball games, complete with a mangey mascot and cheap beer. And she laughed a little bit more. And let herself be honest about her fears. And people got to know her as Morgan and not “the assistant to…..”. And she suddenly didn’t feel quite so alone. And she didn’t dread pulling into her adorable driveway, up the adorable hill, in her adorable neighborhood, during an adorable sunset. Because going home meant she’d had a full day. Filled with people and experiences and it wasn’t just her against the word anymore. And as they passed the scene of the chipmunks in her yard and the warm summer air whispering in the green leaves above them, Morgan watches a version of her current self feel something she hasn’t felt in quite a while - a sense of calm and happiness. And with that, the Subaru pulls back into the orchard, and the kindly ghost leaves her under the tree, by the ladder, but not before thanking her for her company and making sure she got her cider donuts.

And when she awakes for the third time, she’s alone. There’s no ghost of the future sitting there. There’s nothing. Nobody. No natty dressed Ghost or painful scenes from her past. No idyllic vista or hell scene from her past. There's just a blankness. A void. Not good. Not evil. Just...nothing An empty canvas. But there are no paints or markers or pencils for her to map out a plan. So she sits and tries to concentrate as hard as she can about how she wants her future to shake out. She knows shes on the dark side of 35, and so she thinks and thinks and thinks, and tries to channel Oprah or use "The Secret" or pray to Dark Gods who could harness black magic to do her bidding - but even that creates nothing. No matter how hard she tries, she can't figure out her future. She has no idea what this year, let alone the rest of her life, will hold. She’s physically unable to imagine what her life is going to become. The career path she though she had is now nonexistent. There are no romantic prospects on her horizon and her luck in general doesn't seem suited to some dramatic change. But, even with all that incredible uncertainly, the total lack of direction and purpose in her life, she feels.....ok? At peace with her decisions? In some sort of middle ground emotional purgatory? Whatever it is, she knows that this is where she’s supposed to be right now. Even if where she is, doesn’t really make a lot of sense to her. The future is the future - there’s nothing you can do to stop the progression of time. Like Sands Through The Hourglass/etc. We’re always hurtling towards the unknown. Sometimes you just have to content to be where you are. And at the very, very least, she tried to make a change in her life. And hey, thats something, right?

And then, we’re back to moments after she fell off the ladder. And there’s Morgan, splayed beneath the apple tree, legs akimbo. And she awakes, puts her body back together, and sheepishly limps away, with a basket full of bruised apples. On her way to the car, a weird feeling passes through her. At first she thinks it might be some sort of nerve damage from the fall, but then she realizes, no, its something else. Its this feeling of her past and current selves pointing her towards the horizon - so she glances out at the Green Mountains and sees the leaves changing in every direction. Fall is on its way again. And there's a sort of hope and loveliness in the changing of seasons and passing of time. And she somehow knows, deep in her soul, that she'll be fine. Everything will be fine.

Because everything is always fine in a Hallmark Movie.

Tonight 9pm ET/ 7pm CT.