Pricks, Workaholic Weird & Instagram Cockroaches

Lemme tell you: I have one prick of a Christmas tree.

It's a Mexican cypress tree, which I know because I am one of those lunatics you see walking around with plant apps on their phone. There's no better way to look like a quasi-intellect, is there? You and your faux suspenders, step aside: I AM STUDYING THE NATIVE HABITAT OF THE CONIFERAE. (It is also an excellent cover when you want to take a selfie without seeming like a vain Instagram cockroach.)

These cypress trees: they're like sticking your hand inside a swarm of jellyfish. Stringing the lights becomes a Level 10 life risk. Gloves are an absolute necessity here—the tall yellow smelly ones that make your hands feel like slippery little lamb placentas—and you're going to want to have a broom and dustpan at arm's length, because just singing one round of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" is enough to fell half the needles.

Wait, needles???

JUST KIDDING, there are no needles here: these are classified as "needlelike leaves," which I guess is permission to start calling my chin hairs "hair-like surprises." Surprises sounds so much nicer than hairs.

Anyway, welcome to Christmas in Costa Rica! 🌲

We're spending it here this year, which is why I'm filing for a restraining order against my own Christmas tree. These trees can't be trusted. There they are, looking all innocent and friendly in the corner...'til you touch one. "Blotchy red welts" are a whole new category of yuletide greetings.

Unfortunately, options are limited. You want a Balsam Fir? A Fraser Fir? A Douglas Fir? You can piss off, buddy. Here, we only live on the edge. In fact, you know what the Mexican Cypress represents???????

Mourning & death.

Yup, joy to the world! 🌟

(BIG thanks to my plant app for that little tidbit. ⬇️ It's called "Picture This," by the way.)

Now that I think of it, Wednesday Addams would love this tree. Have you seen that yet? I was going to skip it, thinking it was some teen musical (I will motorboat this tree before I watch a teen musical), but then I watched it with C's son and turns out?

I AM WEDNESDAY ADDAMS.

It certainly explains my wardrobe & GLHD (Generalized Loathing of Humans Disorder).

Maybe that's why I like to write. I can say all SORTS of weird things that I wouldn't usually say over a plate of meatballs.

Then again, the best part about writing is the business strategy behind it.

1. You can keep your ideas allllllllll to yourself.
2. Or, you can place them into a container.
   

While most containers contain the remnants of three-week-old turkey thighs 🍗, a container in business means something much more fun:

When you place your ideas into a container, they aren't just for saving—they're for selling.

Otherwise known as—🥁 🥁 🥁—intellectual property.

Intellectual property is the difference between a business that makes you scream bloody murder from the pressure of a permanent 5,000 pound existential crisis, and a business that lets you go frolic in a cabin in Ireland where you can wake up and walk in a meadow with your morning coffee, do a few hours of meaningful creative work, and have a fresh lunch of lemony-ass asparagus before spending the rest of the afternoon learning how to spin wool into a scarf.

Intellectual property is the asset that most people are missing, because most people don't look at their business as a business.

Most people look at their business as redemption. 🙏

"Good" people are hard workers, after all. They show up and bleed. They work long hours. They suffer for it. They prove to themselves and everyone else that they are worthy.

Look how hard I've worked.

Look at me being a martyr for this money.

You can't criticize me until you, too, are ready to die for it.

Unfortunately, this kind of mental script isn't helpful when you want a life of ease, joy, travel, and spaciousness.

You can't get your value from your work in the way you used to, because all the work in the world can't fill that hole...even though you will spend long days and long nights trying.

But, here's the magic of travel: when you're 3,000 miles away from home and you're frolicking in a cabin where you can wake up and walk in a meadow with your morning coffee...it forces a change of priorities.

Before, taking time off during the afternoon felt like an irresponsible move.

Now, not taking time during the afternoon does.

Travel is one of the best cures for work-a-hole-ism there is. And honestly? WE NEED THAT. The internet has brainwashed us in weird, subtle ways.

A big one?

What we think we need to do ---versus--- what we actually need to do.

What small ways are you killing your spirit every day, simply because you feel obligated to?

This year, we're taking a tire iron and we're gonna go get your spirit back.

Mmmkkkayyy?

Don't forget to sign up for my upcoming Jan Jan workshop where I'm going to talk more about intellectual property, and how it can save not only your business health..but your mental health, too.

In the meantime, I wish you a holiday full of friendly, non-threatening "pine-like" needles, at least three gallons of eggnog, and the joy that you had when you were eight years old, putting on a pair of snow pants, letting snot run down the front of your face, and ready to brave an all-new world...and all the adventures that come with it.

Ash