Friday's Letters

Dear Weather Forecast for Sunday: You’re really gonna dump 6-8 inches of snow on me??? There’s a reason February is my least favorite month, and it’s pretty much only because the icky white stuff. At least there’s a Super Bowl or something on that day, I suppose. Can’t wait to hit the grocery store tonight & fight with all the crazies buying milk & bread as if the apocalypse was imminent.

Dear Me: PLEASE—for the love of all that is holy—figure out how to sleep without straining your wrist!!! The stupid brace makes typing kinda difficult.

Dear Rag the Dog Customers: THANK YOU!!! I’m only a few weeks out from celebrating a year since opening shop, and I’m sitting at 2 orders away from 300!!! Never in my wildest dreams did I think my little experiment in entrepreneurship would be so successful!!!

Dear Tom Bergeron Bobble-head Doll: Thanks for making me smile every time I look your way J

Dear Metabolism: Oh how I miss you. But I think I finally need to admit that you’re not ever going to be what you used to be. Time to grow up & take control.