Thursday, December 20, 2012
It was a year ago almost to the day that I awoke and checked my email. My mouth dropped open and shivers went up my spine.
There were several email confirmations of items I'd purchased after I had taken an Ambien and didn't immediately close the laptop, make sure the TV was tuned to 360 for the next morning's news, and put head to pillow.
Oh no, apparently I stayed up and did a little midnight shopping. There was a confirmation for some luxury lingerie from Aubade....ya gotta check them out...pure luxury, and worth every cent, and one rather curious confirmation for a 8' white Christmas tree already strung with tons of lights from Front Gate.
Shit! I didn't remember any of the purchases, not a single one. I clicked on the links, first to the lingerie. I was very glad my exquisite taste in lingerie hadn't been tarnished while under the influence of a hallucinogen. Then I clicked on the one I dreaded most, the one for the 8' white Christmas tree.
The tree arrived several days after Christmas in a box almost as tall as one of my grown sons. Holy Mother of God! What in the hell had I done? With a box that big I had visions of the infamous Griswold tree in the movie Christmas Vacation.
Oh well, it was there and I decided against returning it. It sat in the garage until a few days after Thanksgiving this year when the kids and I made the decision to put it up.
When we took it out of the box it looked big, really big, Griswold big. Oh crap, it was going to be a disaster. We put it together anyway.
When we finally figured out how to place the pieces I realized it fit just fine, although I still wasn't sure I'd made a wise purchase. I mean a white tree?
The next weekend I had the grand kids over to decorate it. Little by little it came together and little by little it became more beautiful. I was beginning to think I could get used to the white Ambien tree.
I gazed at it last night before retiring for the evening. It truly is beautiful. I think I'll keep it around even though I lost a family competition (that I knew nothing about) because I'd bought it "under the influence." (see the paragraph below)
So, Michelle, you can hold your head up high today knowing that you won this made up contest by default."