Dear Summer,
If you and I were in a relationship on Facebook, it would definitely be labeled "it's complicated." I love my short hair which you encouraged me to get; I love going barefoot all the time; I love the sudden burst of coolness when I jump into the pool after sweating in my car to get to the gym; and I love having all this free time to read books, watch movies, clean my apartment, and spend time with my husband. BUT.... Why do you have to be so hot? Why do you have to send mosquitoes my way every time I step outside and flies every time I'm inside? Worst of all, why do you have to end JUST as the weather is becoming tolerably bearable enough for hiking/running/being outdoors?
Dear Husband,
I'm sorry for keeping you up every night. I never knew that sharing a bed with someone would make sleeping so difficult! But I love that you still want to cuddle with me even when it's too hot for either one of us to be comfortable for more than thirty seconds. Thanks for all the help you give me in cooking and cleaning up around the house. I wish you were here more often, but I love spending every second with you that I get. You're my favorite person in the whole world!
Dear Self,
Stop panicking. So you're going back to school for another two years. It's not the end of the world. It will probably be good for you, and maybe your last chance to experience what having a career/social life is like. You just need to take each day at a time and everything will be okay. Also, please remember to check that the door is locked every night for your peace of mind the next morning. Don't forget to return the library books, practice the organ, and go to the gym this week.
Dear Housefly that I Killed Yesterday with our Kitchen Spatula,
It was nothing personal. Sure, I locked you into a room, barricaded all the exits, and then devoted twenty minutes exclusively to hunting you down, but I believe we could have been friends if you would only have lived outdoors, stayed away from my ears and my food, and practiced a life of celibacy. Anyway, sorry for the poor taste I demonstrated in dancing in triumph at your funeral. Thank you for finally provoking me into getting a real flyswatter.
Dear Body,
I know you're a little upset with me. I've done a lot of cruel, unusual things to you after the past few months, and for that, I apologize. Would a run, a hot shower, and a well-balanced meal help to smooth things over between us? It's hard for me to be happy when you aren't. Thanks for staying well for as long as you have, especially during that month of great stress when I got married.
Dear Everyone on Facebook who is Posting their Zombie Apocalypse Team,
Please make it stop.
Dear Blog,
I'm sorry for not writing in you more. I feel like a bad writer. I have plenty of time to write right now, but not a lot to say. Sadly, when school starts, I will likely have a lot to say but no time to write. Still, I will try to be better about that.
Dear New Employer,
I am undecided. On the one hand, I like you and I like the job and I like the money and I like that you promoted me to be able to work between 10 and 20 hours. On the other hand, I am not exactly thrilled about the fact that I will be required to dress up for a job which will require sitting in an office by myself for the majority of the time. Also, I wish the money was a little better. And the hours don't exactly fit in with my schedule. But thanks for hiring me and for saying that I was obviously the best qualified applicant. That made me feel good.
Dear Marianne Dashwood (aka Mrs. Brandon),
After reading the book, I feel much sorrier for you than I did when watching the movie. You really shouldn't have been forced to marry Colonel Brandon, you know. Not only did you not seem to love him with a romantic attachment, but the man was nearly 20 when you were born!
Dear Elinor Dashwood (aka Mrs. Edward Ferrars),
I do NOT envy you your in-laws. But I suppose we can't all marry like Emma. Funny, isn't it, how she was the only wealthy Jane Austen heroine?
Dear Dad,
It occurred to me that both of us forgot "Mansfield Park" when we were talking about the well-known Austen novels.
Dear Teddy,
Sarah and Hannah are coming home soon, I promise. Stay alive.
Love, Ruth.
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