I'm staring at it. I'm sitting here staring at the Christmas tree and it is staring back at me. The tree is naked now, as I've taken all the lights and bulbs and ornaments from the branches and packed them (sadly...insert some sniffles here) neatly in the Christmas storage bins. I'm willing the Christmas tree to take itself outside and to the curb for the trash/recycle pick up tomorrow. The harder I stare at it, the harder the tree stares back at me, both of us unflinching. I am determined to will it to the curb, and the tree is determined to remain put.
Damn it. Move tree.
Still nothing.
OK, neither of us is giving in. Let's hope Poseidon can intervene when he gets home tonight; otherwise, I fear we will have the same tree next year (albeit dead and more than a bit crunchy).
--Fortuitous Observer
