Pink Week

 I remember a time when the season of Advent just seemed to crawl by. Maybe it was when I was a kid, you  know, when I still looked forward to Christmas. Ah, those were the days.

But now, Advent is passing in one big purple blur. What? We're lighting the pink candle already? Are you kidding me? I haven't even put the tree up yet!

That last bit is not one hundred per cent true. I did get my artificial tree out of the storage room in the basement. It is now lying on the living room, all three big bushy parts of it, looking like a sad little mess of shrubbery.

This year's tree is a subject of much controversy in the Desperate household. Everyone seems to have a Good Reason why they can't ehlp put the tree up. I have a bum shoulder; daughter can't understand why I don't just call her boyfriend and ask him to do it; and husband just looks at me with that "Excuse me, are you asking me to do physical household labor?" look in his eyes.

So naturally, yours truly had to get the ball rolling. I dragged the two top segments of the tree up the stairs by myself (and yes, my shoulder does still hurt, thanks for asking). A day or two later the spouse hauled the last bit up the stairs. 

That was the last bit of progress we made.

It got to the point where I actually did contemplate a treeless Christmas this year. I mean, was I the only one who cared about this thing? And if so, why? Putting up a tree only means having to put it away again , and we all know who will get that job. Why make more work for myself?

I mean, I've already decorated the mantle over the fireplace. (And did a very nice job of it, too, if I saw so myself.)  I put out he Nativity set, the Spode Santa statue and the nearly complete "A Christmas Story" village. I topped the china cabinet with a regular forest of Hobby Lobby brush trees. And who do you supposed got the string of  colorful lights on the lawn to flash? I'll let you guess. 

So here I am, on the Monday of the Third Week of Advent, looking at the poor disjointed Christmas tree lying on the floor, taking up three times the space it would if it were assembled.

Maybe it's a metaphor for 2020. "We tried, but we just couldn't do it."

But no. This is no time to lose heart. I will get that tree up by hook or by crook. Desperate will not back down in the face of 2020, not this time.  That pink candle stands for Gaudete, damn it- "rejoice." You want another piece of me, 2020? Watch me rejoice the hell out of you.

This house is going to be full of Christmas cheer whether it wants it or not.