Christmas wrapped to perfection .
I sat down to wrap presents full of confidence.
I had paper. I had tape. I had scissors.
I thought, How hard can this be?
Twenty minutes later, the table looked like a crime scene.
Paper everywhere. Tape stuck to itself. Tape stuck to the table. Tape stuck to me.
At one point I had tape on my elbow and no memory of how it got there.
The paper refused to fold the way I wanted.
One side was neat and crisp, the other looked like it had been chewed by a possum.
I turned it around, flipped it over, tried again… same result.
Apparently wrapping paper has a “good side” and it will never tell you which one it is.
I cut more paper.
Too much.
Cut it again.
Now too little.
Somehow I ended up with a piece shaped like Australia.
The sticky tape made that loud ripping noise that sounds confident…
then immediately curled back on itself and vanished.
I found it later stuck to my leg like it had been there all along.
By the end, the floor was covered, the scissors were missing,
and I was sweating like I’d run a marathon .
I didn’t create perfection.
I created… effort.
I had paper. I had tape. I had scissors.
I thought, How hard can this be?
Twenty minutes later, the table looked like a crime scene.
Paper everywhere. Tape stuck to itself. Tape stuck to the table. Tape stuck to me.
At one point I had tape on my elbow and no memory of how it got there.
The paper refused to fold the way I wanted.
One side was neat and crisp, the other looked like it had been chewed by a possum.
I turned it around, flipped it over, tried again… same result.
Apparently wrapping paper has a “good side” and it will never tell you which one it is.
I cut more paper.
Too much.
Cut it again.
Now too little.
Somehow I ended up with a piece shaped like Australia.
The sticky tape made that loud ripping noise that sounds confident…
then immediately curled back on itself and vanished.
I found it later stuck to my leg like it had been there all along.
By the end, the floor was covered, the scissors were missing,
and I was sweating like I’d run a marathon .
I didn’t create perfection.
I created… effort.
56-60, F






