There is a star on President Obama’s head. If I lean a little to the right, I can see the purple ball earring he is sporting.
I’m sitting on my couch watching the Presidential News Conference on television. The way the light hits my TV screen, I see the reflection of my living room. And in that living room? My Christmas tree. Yes, folks, it is July 11th and I STILL have my Christmas tree up.
It’s not entirely because I’m lazy. I have been known to work extremely hard (well, sometimes…). Besides, it’s not like it’s the kind of Christmas tree full of Santas and gingerbread men. It is a small, color-coordinated piece that matches my living room quite well, and blends with the décor. I didn’t even WANT a Christmas tree (even a 3’ one). I only put it up on Christmas Eve day because my parents were coming and my son was going to be home. I felt an obligation to participate in the festivities for their sake.
It wasn’t always this way. I used to decorate my house from stem to stern (including 3 different trees), prep elaborate dinners and parties, and wrap gifts as if they were being entered into a contest. Since my divorce however, and as I get older in general, I’ve become quite a Scrooge about the whole holiday. But I digress…..
So what’s the holdup? Well…..to put the tree away, I’d have to go down into my basement. First I’d have to try not to KILL myself tripping over the junk I’ve piled on the stairway leading to the basement. On rare occasion, I will open the door to the basement (a door that is always locked) and put something on the steps so that I don’t have to go all the way down INTO the basement. (That kind of makes it sound like my basement is miles away. “Make sure your canteens are full, your bladders are empty, and then mount your donkeys folks… we’re going to – THE BASEMENT.”)
Dun-dun-dun-DAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH…..
Seriously, it’s a mess. More of a mess than my upstairs space is (and that’s saying something). I’ve realized that almost everything in the basement is left over from my “former life”. There’s nothing down there that I use regularly (except the Christmas tree). The door is opened only when it absolutely has to be. It’s a bit like a dank, dusty, mildewed shrine to what used to be.
It has become apparent to me that shoving (and keeping) all that stuff down there (both literally and figuratively) is preventing me from doing what needs to be done in the present. It’s not the tree I need to get rid of; it’s the crap in the “basement”.
Oh, look at that. Obama has a pinecone in his nose.
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