Tiny Letters {Part 2}

Dear Ice,

Melt already. You cling thickly to the roads unlike anything I have ever seen. I have been stuck in this bloody house for three days. I hate you.

Dear Stomach Virus,

Is it really necessary that my daughter throw up every day for a week? I mean, really.

Dear Sacramento,

You have some seriously twisted characters down there in California. I won't be moving there anytime soon, but please feel free to keep the interesting work coming.

Dear Airport Patrons,

Stop complaining about being patted down by TSA. If you don't want to be touched, do the body scan. You aren't going to be seen full on naked, you'll be faceless, and no one has to touch your dirty bits.

Dear SC Management,

Please cooperate. Please don't let me down. I'd appreciate it.

Dear Know-It-All,

According to Socrates, you are basically the biggest idiot ever. Bet you didn't know that.

Dear Boxes in the Garage,

I really, really want to unpack you. I'm working on making that possible. I swear.

Dear Sequal Eclipse Oxygen Concentrator,

I love that you are smaller, I love that you are quiet, I love that you are battery operated and approved for flying. However, I don't love that I will basically be wheeling you behind me and Olivia like carry-on luggage for an indefinite amount of time.