This Is Where Our Christmas Tree Will Go. In 2011.

I'm a girl of my word (most of the time).  For those of you who weren't with me last week, I started chronicling the Happy Headache (a.k.a. the untimely-given-this-recession gut reno of our new place).

Anyway, so far, so good.  For now, the headache is still a happy one.  The vast majority of the debris is gone.  As are the ceilings.  And walls. And floors. And toilets.  

Last night, Husband and I held hands and tiptoed through the mess.  And while he was all smiles, presumably imagining a fairy tale future involving walls and floors and ceilings and our family, I was fixated on a major mystery.  Where do all the construction workers pee?

This lovely image here?  A fair representation of the ordered chaos.  See the ladder on the right?  That's exactly where our Christmas tree will go.  A Douglas Fir.  Because they last longer.  At least a ten footer.  And no, not in 2011.  I'm prone to hyperbole.  But not next year either.  We're talking 2010.  Toddler will be four and little Baby two. Crazy.

Yes, I tend to focus on the odd, indulgent details.  Like where construction workers pee and where the tree will go.  Which is probably why I didn't last long at the firm.  I was much more interested in the symbolism of the shimmering tin of chicken fried rice that sad senior associate scarfed every night hunched over her cluttered desk than the fact that she and I were engaged in the common and noble cause of defending yet another CEO.

But I digress.  For now, the Happy Headache is more happy than headache.  Until next week...