Procrastination Central
11/27/2005
It's That Time....
Well, Turkey Day's a done deal and it's That Time Of Year again...
Time to drag down half of the attic and make the house into a winter wonderland, all while Ho-ho-ho-ing happily around the house.
You know how long that lasts, right?
Until I go outside, duct-tape yet another ailing reindeer into position, plug it in and find that it's suffered a stroke and only half it's dang lights work! Until I attempt neuro-surgery on the piece of wasted metal and realize that while I know how to check the fuses and bulbs, some unknown, mystery condition has afflicted my flock and it has nothing to do with anything the lighting sages have written in Chinese on the back of the box!
Ho-ho-ho my ass!
So I start working inside...
Where the same virus has infected the remaining fifty thousand lights. Where boxes, bubble wrap and tiny bits of long ago decorations litter every available surface like confetti and I can't find the one danged cookie jar I really wanted to put in the kitchen because we've moved and replaced the heating and air system, so everything's upside down...
On the upside, I did find the miniature cheesecake pans.
But then I remember,
I don't really like cheesecake. I just make it because I liked the picture on the cover of the 1998 December Bon Appetit...and who knows where the hell that is!
And then the biggest boy get sick. 102.3 degree fever sick.
There goes my workforce.
And there is nothing more pitiful than an adolescent boy with a fever and a cold.
Three days later, when he is lying in the same clothes in the same small room, playing video games, I realize there is nothing more stinky than adolescent boy who hasn't had a shower in 4 days, unless it's his small, enclosed room.
And if left unattended, Christmas decorations multiply.
So I decide to take the biggest boxes of artificial trees, animals, and decorations outside where they belong. We have lots of trees in the new front yard, so I'm envisioning a winter wonderland of half-lit, stroke victim animals...but I'm optimistic...at least they'll be outside, providing entertainment for the neighbors...
So, I put on my overalls, fling open the front door and...
it's raining!
And I do not mean drizzling!
So, I shove the boxes back inside and use them to barricade myself inside the house because I know and you should know by now that I am only using the Christmas decorations as a way to procrastinate against having to face down the story I've been trying (and need I add, failing) to write for six months about this group of women who drink one too many margaritas and solve mysteries...
Of course, I can't settle down to write in a cluttered environment, so I at least get my office into some semblance of ho-ho-ho-dom. (See the pictures)
And then I hear the dulcid tones of my oldest...
"Hey Mom, how come the hot water won't shut off? I turned it as hard as I can but it won't stop...Come look! Man, that's wierd, huh?"
Yeah, that's one word for it.
So, like, Ho Ho Ho, Y'all!
Time to drag down half of the attic and make the house into a winter wonderland, all while Ho-ho-ho-ing happily around the house.
You know how long that lasts, right?
Until I go outside, duct-tape yet another ailing reindeer into position, plug it in and find that it's suffered a stroke and only half it's dang lights work! Until I attempt neuro-surgery on the piece of wasted metal and realize that while I know how to check the fuses and bulbs, some unknown, mystery condition has afflicted my flock and it has nothing to do with anything the lighting sages have written in Chinese on the back of the box!
Ho-ho-ho my ass!
So I start working inside...
Where the same virus has infected the remaining fifty thousand lights. Where boxes, bubble wrap and tiny bits of long ago decorations litter every available surface like confetti and I can't find the one danged cookie jar I really wanted to put in the kitchen because we've moved and replaced the heating and air system, so everything's upside down...
On the upside, I did find the miniature cheesecake pans.
But then I remember,
I don't really like cheesecake. I just make it because I liked the picture on the cover of the 1998 December Bon Appetit...and who knows where the hell that is!
And then the biggest boy get sick. 102.3 degree fever sick.
There goes my workforce.
And there is nothing more pitiful than an adolescent boy with a fever and a cold.
Three days later, when he is lying in the same clothes in the same small room, playing video games, I realize there is nothing more stinky than adolescent boy who hasn't had a shower in 4 days, unless it's his small, enclosed room.
And if left unattended, Christmas decorations multiply.
So I decide to take the biggest boxes of artificial trees, animals, and decorations outside where they belong. We have lots of trees in the new front yard, so I'm envisioning a winter wonderland of half-lit, stroke victim animals...but I'm optimistic...at least they'll be outside, providing entertainment for the neighbors...
So, I put on my overalls, fling open the front door and...
it's raining!
And I do not mean drizzling!
So, I shove the boxes back inside and use them to barricade myself inside the house because I know and you should know by now that I am only using the Christmas decorations as a way to procrastinate against having to face down the story I've been trying (and need I add, failing) to write for six months about this group of women who drink one too many margaritas and solve mysteries...
Of course, I can't settle down to write in a cluttered environment, so I at least get my office into some semblance of ho-ho-ho-dom. (See the pictures)
And then I hear the dulcid tones of my oldest...
"Hey Mom, how come the hot water won't shut off? I turned it as hard as I can but it won't stop...Come look! Man, that's wierd, huh?"
Yeah, that's one word for it.
So, like, Ho Ho Ho, Y'all!
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