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Dear Magic Mike Boys, I hear you are hinting at a sequel. That sounds fabulous. How about for this one there’s less talking and more dancing. If that’s possible.
Dear My Health Insurance Company, Don’t be all denying my claims for WB’s formula after you already approved half of them. Nothing’s changed except for the person that looked at them the second time. Let’s get that same person who processed them the first time to look at them again okay?
Dear WB, Speaking of your formula, you’re done with it. Your doctor (who I adore) thinks you’ve grown out of your allergy and I think he’s right. You’re doing okay with it and I am happy!
Dear B, I know you are busy and all, but let’s hurry up and get that antenna installed in the attic so we can watch some live tv. I feel like I’m living off the grid not being able to watch the news. I know I have the internet. But still.
Dear My Football Squares, Even though you are the crappiest of crappy numbers, I hope you win for me. I’ve never won squares before and I feel like this should be my year.
Dear Wallpaper, Are you making a comeback? Because I feel like you are. At least you are in my head anyways and I want to put you up in my bathroom.
Dear Stella & Dot, I was SO EXCITED when I got an e-mailing from you yesterday congratulating me for making my sales goal! I felt like you were so proud of me and you know what, I was proud of me too. Until I realized, uhh, I don’t sell Stella & Dot.
Dear L, If this is the only illness you get this winter, I’m going to be one happy mama. I can handle a few nights of not sleeping and some crabbiness. Heck, I don’t even sleep anyways and I am crabby myself sometimes. And I’m not even sick.
