Robert Manners

The Tree

There is a seven-foot Douglas fir in a bucket on my front porch. I have to go to the Home Depot and buy a stand before I can put it in the house. While I'm there, I have to buy a new shower head to replace the one that rocketed off the spigot earlier in the week, spraying me with hot water and chagrin. I hate the Home Depot. In fact, I hate all hardware stores and all warehouse stores...so a warehouse hardware store is really really low on my list of places to go.



The only presents I've bought so far are for myself, as well as my coworkers and one of my friends; that leaves nine relative who will be at the house on Christmas and four friends with whom I exchange gifts (fortunately, several of my relatives won't be with us on Xmas, and don't deserve anything anyway). I have not sent my Christmas cards, I can't find the ones I bought on sale last year and don't have the energy to look for new ones...I guess I'll be doing New Year's cards again. Nor have I sent any of the mail-away presents for the out-of-town people in my life (except my Mother...she always gets a pound of Godiva, which I remembered to buy online today, but had to pay $16 in postage to get it there before Christmas). I have to buy insurance for my car and send in the proof of it to the DMV before my registration expires on my birthday...two days after Christmas, I will turn 34 (and Marlene Dietrich will have been 100). I have one week to do absolutely everything...



Somebody please shoot me.