Dear Green Camry from Sumner County driver:
Some people can talk on their cellphones and drive. You, good sir, are not one of them. Seriously. I was behind you on the way to work and definitely took notice when your car speed slowed by a good 10 mph. I saw you talking on the phone. And I’m just going to tell you, driving 50 mph on I-65/40 going into Nashville during rush hour is not cool. Or advisable. I mean, people coming off the entrance ramp where driving faster than you! And your slower-than-usual speed in the next lane over was causing definitely problems. You obviously can’t do two things at once, or at least you can’t pay attention to traffic and talk on the phone at the same time. So hang up and drive. That’s what I said when I was giving you the crazy-eyed glare.
Trying not to give in to road rage,
Dear Beloved Nine West Pumps:
I have loved you with a love that spans centuries and time. You were such a good buy, since you looked great with pants and skirts. You are absolutely perfect for work. So, what’s your deal? Why are you falling apart on me? What in the world has made the cap crumble off of your big chunky heels? Are you angry with me? Have I worn you too much and asked too much of you? Am I too clingy and dependent on you? Are you just tired of me? Because I love you! And I guess I could pay to get you fixed by a shoe repair shop, but I bought you at Ross Dress for Less for like $15. Your repairs would likely cost more than that. Should I just continue to wear you in your broken fashion, which causes me to stumble a bit more than usual? I don’t know, but I do know that I miss you.
Having trouble letting go,
Dear denim skirts:
I like you, too. You’re not short, tight, or anything inappropriate. But you’re no longer allowed according to the dress code at work, which pains me so much. You looked so nice with my brown boots. And my black boots. And that black button-down shirt I haven’t even worn this year because I can’t wear it with you. Please understand that I’m not ignoring you because I want to. It’s simply because The Powers That Be apparently have some sort of hatred for denim (and pants hemmed higher than “mid-calf”).
It’s not me; it’s them,
Dear head of another department in my company:
You make me feel awkward with your strange elevator conversations.
Confused about how to respond,
Dear Mike Anderson:
Mizzou plays Nebraska in basketball on Saturday. I’m sure you know that. Something you may not know: I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to have a repeat of that Illinois Braggin’ Rights debacle. If I’m not mistaken, this will be our first conference game of the season. Nebraska is annoying enough with all their football swagger. Please, let’s win. Our record is so nice right now at 13-2.
A devoted fan in SEC-land,