Dear So and So---

Dear Sadistic SOB Who Designed the Roll Out Shelf on My Computer Desk--Yes, I know I considered it quite the selling point when I bought your product. However, after multiple occasions of forgetting to move my drink BEFORE sliding the shelf in, I have decided that either you secretly own the carpet cleaning company or I am simply too stupid to safely operate such elaborate mechanisms.

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Dear Body--It's true, I've largely ignored the owner's manual. I keep you clean; I don't bother with polish though and I've never once had you detailed. I feed you low grade fuel from the soft drink and chip aisle and the only thing premium in your diet is that I don't buy off brand soda. I've skipped most of the routine maintenance milestones, avoided regular tune-ups and generally ignored any system warning lights. Still, I am dismayed by the mutiny in progress. Do forty-nine years mean absolutely nothing to you? Where's the loyalty? Let's get back on track here; don't make me sacrifice a few inner parts just to prove to you that I mean business.

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Dear Backyard--Thank you for keeping me company this last week. I appreciate your quiet support more than you know. You are a peaceful place rather than a lonely place and I thank you for that peace.

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Dear Husband--while I know you are exhausted from a long week of 20 hour work days while you've been traveling...and it's very endearing when you tell me you're counting the minutes until you are home with me, please be aware that I have been alone for some 7223 minutes of the 7260 you have been gone. This accounts for 2 minutes interaction with the grocery store cashier, 5 minutes with the 77 year old lady from two doors down and 30 minutes spent negotiating control of my uterus with my gynecologist. It's ugly here. Come home bearing gifts.