Christmas is nice and all, but once you start moving out of the self-imposed sloth mode, you cannot get out of there fast enough. As soon as the tree has been put to the curb, all the overlooked detritus of the season starts to irk.
Because of a work deadline, I had to leave the stripping away of the festive fireplace mantel until the day after we removed the tree and its carpet of fallen needles. The dried out boughs and sparkly ornaments that seemed so festive hanging from the brick mantel three weeks ago suddenly looked tired and sad, like a hooker named Nancy who would really rather just stay home and smoke a bowl on the couch instead of putting on her best smile and heading out to the truck stop.
It was such a relief to finally strip away the boughs and baubles today and to restore the space to its usual stark clean lines. Christmas has way too many curves.
Now to get my brain back on the straight and narrow.