Twas the 2nd day after Christmas...

...and all through the house, Christmas is over, now get it out of the house.

blah blah blah. I had the play-by-play for the entire holiday typed out, but who really gives a shit. Or maybe it's just me that doesn't give a shit. As much as I like the whole festive season between Thanksgiving and Christmas, once it's over, it's done. I don't carry the Christmas spirit past Christmas. When I was a kid, I never wanted Christmas to end, and watching my mother take down the Christmas tree was a traumatic experience, but now I'm the same way she is. Once it's done, get it out. I guess this has evolved from how it was when I was a kid. When I was a kid, I had the same extreme excitement that every kid had for Christmas. I didn't sleep the night before, and I woke up way too early and dragged my parents out of their beds so that we could open presents. I'd rip open the presents as fast as humanly possible to quickly reveal that toy that I had lusted after since Sears sent out the toy catalog back in November. The only thing more exciting than that was the next present. It was like an endless roll of scratch tickets, with every one being a winner. When I finally got to that last present, my excitement shifted from the rush of opening toys, to the joy of playing with them all. What one do I play with first!? In my manic state, I'd quickly play a little bit with each one. And then it set in... Post Christmas Depression. I opened everything, and I played with all of my toys. There was nothing left to do. This was the dose of reality that it was all over, and all I had left was the crashdown from all that adreneline that had run its course and dissipated from my veins. I think this is why I hated to see the Christmas tree go away... it was the last remaining symbol of that sheer excitement and jubilation. It remained long after the extitement was gone, but stood as a reminder of just how great it was.

As I grew up, my interests in Christmas matured and the aspect of Family and giving was what I looked forward to more than the receiving. While I still like getting presents as much as everybody else, I take greater pleasure in giving to my family, which is why I put so much effort into making sure that everybody gets at least one or two things that puts a genuine smile on their face as they open it. Seeing that smile, along with spending that valuable time with my family is what interests me the most in Christmas now, but just like when I was a kid, there's that Post-Christmas Depression. Now it occurs after everything is opened, the smiles have subsided, and the people have gone home. So now, it's over, and it's time to get rid of Christmas. That's the part that changed... now I no longer want the Christmas tree to stick around and remind me of the great holiday gone by.

Then again, maybe there's another reason. When I was a kid, putting up the Christmas tree was a grand event. We spent the whole day putting the tree together, decorating it, and having a great time.

Now Kristin and I have a real tree instead of a fake one. I have to freeze my ass off looking at 200 trees until we find the "Right" one. Then I have to tie it to the roof of the vehice, get it home, untie it, break my back getting it into the house and into the tree stand, only to find that it's got to be trimmed, so I break my back getting it back outside. I cut it, usually freezing through the entire process. I break my back getting it back inside. By now I'm sticky with pine sap from head to toe, I have needles all over the house, and Kristin is bitching at me because I've been complaining and swearing the whole time. Of course, she can't understand why it's a pain in the ass, because all she has to do is hold it upright while I lay on my stomach, fighting with the tree stand and getting whipped in the face with tree branches. By the time we finally get the piece of shit standing somewhat vertical, I've had enough frustration to completely ruin the whole event, and Kristin is pissed off because of my swearing and complaining. So now that we're both pissed off, we have to tolerate each other long enough to put up the lights and ornaments. Putting up the lights never goes well because we don't tend to work well together when it comes to that sort of things. By the time we get to ornaments, I just want to get the hell out of there, so I put them anywhere I can find a spot, just as long as I get them done.

No wonder I can't wait for that tree to get out of my house. It's not Christmas I'm tired of, it's that fucking tree.