Thursday, January 11, 2007

Groundhog's Month

Turns out that in my neighborhood, the second week of January is when everyone drags their Christmas trees to the curb for some garbage truck that has yet to come through and devour the holidays. They're just growing in numbers, these stupid, sad Christmas trees, with tinsel still stuck in the branches like broccoli caught between bicuspids.

I've been working nonstop. My desk at work is an experiment in geology: 8.5x11 dated, stamped sediment covered by newer layers of detritus, compressed under shipments of books and binders of photographic research, combined with the heat of my CPU and the occasional cup of coffee teetering precariously on top, forming some metamorphic compound that will result in a nervous breakdown.

Lately I don't even know what day it is. It's too warm to be January at all, so where's the cue to know it's the sixth, or the fifteenth, or a Tuesday, or a Sunday? The other day I came up out of the subway and it was snowing. By the time I got to my desk, it had stopped.

Trees lined up along the sidewalk like dogs tied to the bike rack outside a deli at least prove time is moving by.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Behind wine corks, I take the most pitty on Christmas trees. Their definitive life glory is to sit there and make little kids happy for two weeks, but then...Well.

What if...
People started adopting "abandoned Christmas trees" from you know, abandoned Christmas tree rescue shelters.

What if...
We all had Pet Christmas trees that we can eventually bury in the backyard next to Fluffy the cat after so many faithful years of holiday love.

What if...
Every Christmas Tree had a name?

What if...
They took up more than the "background" in our holiday photos?

What if...
Christmas trees stood up for their rights and refused to just sit there.

What if...
Christmas trees were actually Jewish and 'Don't really celebrate Christmas'?

10:45 PM  

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