Maybe it’s the excitement of the holidays.
Maybe it’s the crazy hours radio people keep.
Or maybe my body clock is simply shifting as I get older.
For whatever reason, twice this week I rolled out of bed at 4:00 a.m.
That’s actually not so unusual when you take into account my 1:00 a.m. workday wake-up call. But I’m whining about it because it happened ON. MY. DAYS. OFF!
The first time, I shrugged it off as an anomaly, flipped on the coffee pot and complained about the hour on Facebook.
I did the same thing the second time.
If it happens again next week, I may go see my doctor.
Then again, my inability to sleep like a teenager lately may not turn out to be a medical condition. Age and work hours notwithstanding, I suspect it may have something more to do with our Christmas tree.
We’ve been cutting down our tree at the same farm for years and this year was no different. The annual trip out there is a pleasant family tradition. It helps mark the start of the season for us.
Other families apparently feel the same way.
The farm was a popular place to be on the day we drove out there. It was crowded with people choosing from among the spruce, fir and pine trees arranged in long rows on the hillsides of the spacious farm. Others had already made their choices and were tying down their trees on top their cars or securing them in the bed of their pickups.
After we finally found a spot to park, I grabbed our saw and set off with my wife and our daughter. We walked to the same general area we seem to go every year while casting a critical eye over the available trees.
There were skinny ones and plump ones, trees that were too short and trees that were too tall and, to make like Dr. Seuss, others that would not do at all. A few were found wanting because they had a gap in their foliage. Others because they leaned too far to one side or the top didn’t meet our preference.
In the end, we chose what we believed to be a nice looking tree. And if you won’t take my word for it, ask the neighbor who walked by when I was hauling it into the house.
After he complimented our choice, I thanked him. But then I joked that it wouldn’t be such a great tree if it refused to stand up.
We both had a good laugh, but I was being serious. I’ve had all sorts of trouble over the years with Christmas trees falling down and others that made my right eye twitch because they would not stop leaning precariously as if they were wavering on the edge of a cliff.
For now, this year’s tree seems solid enough. It’s standing tall in our living room, fully decked out in the decorations we’ve accumulated over the years.
But I can’t escape the fear of another Christmas tree calamity. And, it’s apparently such a worry that it’s jerking me awake before my time.
Christmas trees make me THAT paranoid, so I guess I’ll just have to get used to rising early this holiday season — whether I want to or not.