Ah, Friday! Sweet, sweet Friday. Where have you been all week? I've missed you. You know you've become one of my favorite days thanks to Kat and her super duper "Dear So and So" party. Let's get on with the letters, shall we?
Dear Italian construction crew working outside my building,
I understand that you're just trying to make my building a better, prettier place to live by using up the remainder of the DPW budget before the end of the fiscal year, and really, I appreciate it. I do. I really, really do. I have one teensy-tiny little favor to ask though. Instead of working from 7-3, do you think maybe, just maybe you could work say, 8-4 instead? Yes, I'm sure you want to kick off earlier in the day,and really, I can't blame you for that, but the sound of concrete being dumped into a bin at 7 am is really, really scary. I'm sure it would be scary at 8 too, but I'm usually still in bed at 7 (don't hate me) and being awoken to an earth shattering sound (which also makes the windows rattle, BTW) is so not cool. Could you think about it? Please? Also, why are you working in Germany?
I know you think you're a Rottweiler, but you're not. You're 4 lbs of fury and I respect that. Grrrrr! You're a big dog. Grrrrr! However, you look a little but insane when you try to attack a dog who's waste is larger than you. It's kind of embarrassing. Could you please reign it in, just a smidge? As a favor? Remember, I feed you.
Happy Birthday, buddy! You've given us 9 wonderful years of love. You're dumb as a box of rocks, but we love you and don't mind that you occasionally run into walls.
Kisses and extra treats,
I have no letter for you, but I didn't want you to feel left out. We love you too, even though you're pretty much blind and deaf and are starting to make weird smells in your old age.
YOU. ARE. A. MESS. I clean you and you're all pretty and clean and then BAM! you're a mess again. How does this happen?
When I asked you to clean the kitchen last night as I was writhing on the sofa in agony from food poison, I kind of meant for you to actually clean it. Stacking stuff in the sink and on the counter for me to deal with today, is NOT cleaning the kitchen. You know we're supposed to go on a date tonight right? Not cleaning the kitchen for me, does not exactly put me in a loving mood. Something to think about.
Dear Personal Trainer,
I know I gripe about how you're trying to kill me
a lot occasionally, but I can see that the torture hard work is starting to pay off. I still hate to sweat though, so could we maybe find something else that doesn't involve me dripping onto the mats or machines? Cause I'd really appreciate it.
Could you make up your freaking mind? All weather stations were reporting 98-101 degrees yesterday and today we have a high of 69? This is very confusing and wreaking havoc on my sinuses, wardrobe choices and allergies. If you want it to be summer, be summer (though really, I'm so over summer), but if you want it to be fall (yes, please!), then be freaking fall. Quit with all the back and forth. I do not like it.
Hot (or maybe chilly, I don't know anymore),
Dear people from my mom's Gold Wing group,
Welcome to my blog. I must say I'm kind of embarrassed by the attention I seem to be getting from you. Feel free to look around. If you choose to leave a comment, please don't use my name. If you see something you think my mom won't like, please don't tell her. She doesn't read every post (thank goodness).
Well, I guess that's all for today. I'm sure I'll think of more stuff just after I post this. Don't you hate that? Don't forget to click on the button up top to head over and read the other letters.