It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Bah. Humbug. Let me get that out of the way right off the top.

I am sitting in my sunroom/office in my very comfy but highly impractical desk chair. I am not sitting at my desk, however, because it is, at the moment, covered with seven strings of lights, 60 assorted ornaments, three extension cords, and the angel for the top of my tree. So my netbook is in my lap and I am wishing that I had remembered to get the space heater out of the trunk of my car. There's no heat in my sunroom/office, which makes it almost as impractical as my desk chair.

My sunroom, like the rest of my apartment, is blessed with nine-foot ceilings. Which translates to a roughly 8-1/2 foot Christmas tree with just enough room for the angel on top. Said Christmas tree is being delivered some time tomorrow. Neither I nor the roof of my Corolla is large or strong enough to handle an 8-1/2 foot Christmas tree. And when they said "free delivery," they didn't say anything about charging extra to come to the second floor.

So I have spent at least some portion (though not nearly enough) of this weekend cleaning my apartment (well, my sunroom) in preparation for Christmas decorations. I suppose it's a little bit of overkill to have six large boxes of Christmas decorations for an 800-square-foot apartment, but I've never been one to take the holidays lightly. I'm just not sure how compatible six boxes of (mostly breakable) Christmas decorations are going to be with four cats. But I'm about to find out.