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I actually fucked up 8 years ago, but time has worn down my pride enough that I'm willing to finally share this story with the world.
It was recently suggested to me that I leave my Christmas tree up a little longer in order to further enjoy the cheeriness it brings to the living room. This is an easy thing to suggest when you haven't seen the things I've seen. When you haven't done the things that my boyfriend and I have done. You see, when you have one year when you leave your tree up until May, that experience changes you. It changes Christmas forever.
We have always used real trees as opposed to artificial ones, which means they need to be disposed of after the holidays. Back when we lived in an apartment they had a small window of time when you could leave the tree by the curb and they would haul it away for you. Unfortunately we missed that window, which turned into weeks and weeks of pretending the tree just... didn't exist. Sure the ornaments came down, but the skeletal remains of Christmas stood in our living room as a monument to our evasion of basic responsibilities.
One day, in late February or so, we realized we could be having friends over for dinner. We thought, "Oh my god. We can't let people know we still have this tree!" So we did what any logical couple would do and we hid it in the closet with a white blanket over it. You can imagine how terrifying it was in the beginning when you would get up to use the restroom in the middle of the night and see an 8 foot tall Christmas tree ghost looming in the doorway.
I don't know what the final straw was. Maybe it was the storage space we were losing by having a massive cloaked Douglas fir in our closet. Maybe it was that we missed using the blanket that had taken on a new purpose in life. Whatever it was, we knew we couldn't avoid this issue any longer. The problem of how to dispose of the tree still existed. We couldn't leave it at the curb, and we knew wherever we took it, it was going to leave a breadcrumb trail of humiliation straight to our doorstep.
That's when the saw came out.
Into the wee hours of the night we carefully disassembled the tree until it was compact enough to fit into a cardboard box. By 2am we were covered in sweat and sap, but we were able to stealthily discard the box in a nearby dumpster. On that day, we vowed to never again let the disposal of the Christmas tree become an episode of Forensic Files.
And now my shameful past is out in the open for the internet to enjoy. Happy New Year, all!
TL:DR - Holiday procrastination took a turn for the worse when my apartment became botanical Dexter scene. Also Happy New Year. :)
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