Epic. Christmas. Fail.

For my entire adult life, even when I was living by myself, I've always managed to do some decorating for Christmas. When I lived in a shabby one bedroom apartment in the shadow of "Plank Hill" in Eau Claire, next to a run down house and a pile of couches, I was not allowed to have a Christmas tree because my landlord did not want to invite the fire hazard. Even in this situation I still managed to put up some lights, a tiny fake tree, and a few other decorations. My second Christmas after I college I lived by myself in a house Spring Grove, Minnesota yet still managed to buy a tree at the local Kwik Trip, throw it in the back seat of my Subaru, and get it home only to spend over two hours attempting to put a "fresh cut" on the bottom with a pocket knife (my saw broke instantly during this endeavor), all before cramming it into a broken down 1980s era tree stand that I inherited from my parents. My lowest ebb was swearing at the tree and tossing it across the living room, landing it on the couch with a great crash. I may have kicked it. I don't recall. Either way I took a few minutes to "cool off" before finishing the job.

In light of my past experiences (most of which have been completely positive since Kaia and I have been living together) it is shocking to admit that we didn't do any Christmas decorating this year. Perhaps it was the 50 and 60 degree temperatures after Thanksgiving here in central Illinois, maybe it was the busyness of the end of the semester, or perhaps we just simply didn't notice the calendar - it's mid-December already. Whatever the case, there isn't a single indication of holiday cheer around our house this year. Our boxes of lights, ornaments, and decorations are still piled in the closet with no tree on which to hang them. The only real indication of the holidays at all are the Christmas cards hanging in our kitchen and the quart of eggnog on the door of the refrigerator.

It kind of makes me feel a bit like this.