Christmas Explosion

My living room floor is covered in Christmas. The tree I dragged out of the way too small closet, is laying on the floor, still in it's box, begging to be let out, put up, lit up, and decorated. The ornaments are laying beside the tree, again, still in their boxes. Table runners, tree skirts, garland, nativity scenes all taking up space on my living room floor, while I sit on my arse staring and writing about it. I love Christmas, and I love decorating my little apartment for Christmas, but for the life of me, I cannot find my motivation. It may have something to do with the fact I slammed my head on a shelf, twice, trying to dig all my decorations out of the too small closet. I'm sure my neighbors wonder what was going on over here, because I was definitely not quiet about my feelings upon slamming my head on the shelf. It may have something to do with the simple fact, I'm tired, pooped from the week. Or it may have to do with the fact I waited until 10:00pm to begin decorating my house for Christmas. Whatever the reason, my pretty tree with it's sparkling lights, glittering butterflies and ornaments, and my garland that cozies up my fireplace with it's happy pink lights, are just going to have to wait until tomorrow night to bring Christmas to this apartment. Right now all I want to do is take four ibuprofen, put some ice on the back of head, make a cup of tea, and sink into this big comfy couch.