To the erratically swerving, completely preoccupied woman putting on lipstick in the rearview mirror of her Honda Civic in stop and go traffic in the rain on 465 during rush hour: you deserved to rear-end that construction truck, and you deserved the berating I could tell you were getting from the (rightfully) pissed truck driver. I’m just glad you didn’t hit me.
To the Wayne branch of the Indianapolis Public Library—yes, I realize I am using my own laptop as opposed to waiting in line to crowd up against a bunch of 13 year olds chomping at the bit to access their Myspace accounts. I did not realize that this gave you the authority to peer furtively at me from the circulation desk every ten minutes to see what kind of interweb trickery I was inflicting on your branch. Unsecured wireless network = free access for me in a quiet, safe environment. That shouldn’t prompt you to freak out. I promise, I won’t download anything I wouldn’t want you to read over my shoulder.
To my neighborhood Meijer: you’re a lovely store. I much prefer shopping within your perky red and white walls than say, going to Wal-Mart. But for some reason, even though you have a vast and varied grocery section, you NEVER have what I’m looking for—and I’m not a picky eater. Miracle Whip Light? out of stock. Solid white tuna? Only in the crazy expensive pouches. Fat Free Jello Pudding Cups? Nope, sorry, only in tapioca (blecccchhh). Though if I ever have a craving for pork rinds, you carry no less than six different kinds.
To my awesometastic roommate: I’m sorry I’m such a klutz. I’m sorry I’ve taken chunks out of the plaster in the corner; banged my head against the wall getting out of bed (probably waking your sleeping butt up) nearly every morning; made your cat nearly have a feline heart attack when I scared it inadvertently; and elbowed your awesome wall art so that it fell, barely averting disaster… all in the past few days. I swear, I’m not this uncoordinated, but I’m going to go buy some bubble wrap to be safe.
To my beloved New York Mets: C’mon, you can do it! Don’t make me have to watch a Cards/Tigers World Series. Our nation deserves better.
To the makers of Dove Dark Chocolate: A thousand thanks for making my afternoon bearable.