I took down Christmas decorations outside this afternoon; collapsed twinkling trees, pulled electrical cord from beneath frozen snow, wound up endless strings of lights, and stuffed tangled lengths of electrical Christmas Joy into boxes with labels like "Thousand Points of Light". In doing so, I packed a time capsule to be opened in eleven months and it contains a clear message for the future me. It says... "It's cold out here and I don't have time for this tangled crap! YOU deal with it!"
On November 26th of this year the future me will unseal the snarled capsule and pull out a memory, not of Holiday Cheer but of Christmas Frustration Past. I hope the future me is patient and forgiving, I hope he will remember the cold day, the frozen snow, and the countless other things I had to do that day.
But if history is any guide, he'll be feeling lazy and still shaking off Turkey sedation. He'll curse my name and demand to know why I didn't do my part to make his job easier. And come January 1st, 2011, in a misguided attempt at vigilante justice, he'll stuff a morass of wiry knots into another time capsule that says, "Oh yeah?! Just try to untangle THIS!"
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