Christmas: The Aftermath

Man, how depressing is it to take down Christmas decorations? This year I was pretty bitter towards the damn Boy Scouts, whose local troop picks up Christmas trees from the 'hood to recycle for a fundraiser. That's great and all; we had signed up earlier last month thinking it would save us a ton of time and effort...and had totally forgotten they were coming on January 2nd at 8 in the morning. So, let me spell that out for you. That means we had to get our lazy bones up off the couch on the 1st (national day o' hangovers) and take down the tree, when it otherwise would have taken an act of God to pry us off that comfy black hole that sucks the room dry of all motivation and energy.

So, needless to say, we were having some choice words for the Boy Scouts anyway but dutifully were pushing through the task at hand...until it came time to take our gigantic tree out the door. We Warrens have Elephantitis of the Tree this year, cripes! Please see exhibit A, B, and C and appreciate the angst.
Clark Griswold would have been so proud. Stupid &$**&#*$^!!@ tree.