However, the experience wasn't exactly the romantic-1960s-musical-tree-lot-galavanting adventure I was hoping for...
I really like to take my time in tree lots. Look at every option, smell the trees, find the biggest and best Noble Fir that can squeeze into our apartment, then second guess it, look at 10 others, take pictures, and usually eventually come back to the first one we loved. It's my process.
Today we had discovered a beautiful tree and were just beginning to browse, when a man named Alan, who, based on his demeanor and missing teeth can only lead me to assume he was a carni at one point in his career, started hustling us and rushing our tree buying experience!
Long story short, we ended up getting the first tree we had looked at. And it stressed my shit out.
EVEN THOUGH Alan told us that he could tell we were full of Christmas spirit and sold us the tree at a Douglas Fir price instead (come-up-city!), I was still totally panicked that we had chosen the wrong one!
Even once the tree was cut and paid for in and in the back of the truck ready to come home with us, I melted. down.
I started FREAKING out that we had been hoodwinked and rushed into buying the wrong tree! What if there had been a more perfect tree? One that was fuller or fresher or smelled more pine-y?
There were SO many trees there and I didn't have time to completely and fully examine every one of them to make the absolute perfect decision!
That's when I realized - you NEVER know if you're making the perfect decision. There's no such thing.
My commitment issues with trees are a lot like my commitment issues in every day life.
I have an extreme tendency to second guess everything and think that there might be something even more perfect, and it leads to a lot of burden and mental strain.
This tree experience lead me to a long-awaited epiphany:
Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith and buy the tree.
And most of the time, you won't be disappointed.
The tree ended up being absolutely perfect. The best one we've had yet.
Thanks Alan, wherever you are. I'm sorry I called you a carni.