The Unbearable Sadness Of My Deconstructed Tree

I can’t take it. Down.

Mid-demolition. It hurts.

I don’t do this voluntarily. I have to be shoved into it like a kid in the deep end. My entirely nonreligious Christmas tree goes up in early November because I have the patience of instant coffee and comes down sometime in January. And only then when it absolutely must. This year, my tree’s demise came early, on but the 3rd day of January. So soon. I’d…