I said no gifts. I meant it too. You knew I Marie Kondoed my apartment twice. I gave you the book to read before that Netflix show got popular. But you insisted. You made me open up gift after gift after gift of trinkets and items I might use, but probably won't. With each one, I cringed, knowing it would eventually find its way to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. You made me perform for you with my rehearsed lines—"Oh how sweet!" "This is so thoughtful!" When I opened a pair or pants, you even had me go into the bathroom to try them on. "Let's see!" you urged. And I came back with the new pants on, tags dangling, and you all looked at me and I wanted to disappear forever. I said no gifts so why do you all keep giving them? Are they for you or for me?