I feel like posting

so I think that I will.

To the adorable older couple that came into the office today:
         I think you both are incredibly sweet, and I love how you guys talked to each other.  Especially you, husband.  I love that you complimented your wife in such loving and adoring terms, even when she was no longer in the room.  Someday, possibly 37 years in the future of my marriage like you two, I hope that Jeff and I can talk about each other the same way that you talked about your wife.  You guys are good examples.

To the acne that keeps cropping up on my face:
         I detest you.  I haven't had you this bad since adolescence, and maybe not even then.  And why must you always appear on my chinny-chin-chin?  If you MUST appear somewhere, can't you choose a less conspicuous place such as, um, say, my forehead?  Or my arm?  I use medicine on you every morning and night, and still you insist on gracing me with your presence.  I here-by banish you from my face.  Forever.

To the nice but incredibly stinky woman that visited the office:  
         I usually like you.  You are funny, talk really loudly, and always talk about your plans to go dancing later in the night.  You're an interesting character, and I really don't mind doing therapy on you, even though you usually smell very strongly of old lady perfume.  But today, today was an entirely different story.  As soon as I saw you, the smell of rotten fish graced my nostrils like the gently nose-hair curling tendrils of death.  From there-on-in the only thought running through my mind was the memory of a Vagisil commercial that I had never understood, until this fateful day.  In the commercial a woman turns away from her friends/coworkers with a look of embarrassment and shame.  The announcer then commiserates with said woman about how the fishy smell of "feminine odor" can leave you feeling like you want to spend all day cooped up in your room, except that you would probably choke yourself on your own stench.  I have always wondered about that commercial, but I wonder no longer.  Your stench left me so disgusted that I almost shoved my nose into the armpit of the mechanic that was sitting next to me doing his neck rehab.  Next to you, his scent of oil, sweat, and grime was a very welcome aroma.  Thanks for the experience, although I think I can still smell you now, 4 hours later.

To the work day today:
         Thank you for speeding by, so that it only seemed like I worked 2 hours.  I love Fridays that seem like they are over before they even begin.

To the stuffed mushrooms that I made last night:
         You guys are amazingly tasty both fresh out of the oven, and warmed up the next day in the microwave.  Thanks for satisfying my hunger pains when I got home from work.  You guys are delicious little morsels of tender loving goodness.  I appreciate you.

To the headache that just magically appeared:
        I don't appreciate, or like you.  You may leave my prescence.

To the Tylenol I just ingested:
        You may start working now.

To the writers of all the young-adult fantasy fiction novels that I have been reading this summer:
         Although some of your stories may be interesting, I feel like you guys are just completely missng the mark.  My problems with you are all very similar in scope--you think you are creating a new and exciting world, but you're really not that exciting.  Your character development is, in a word, lame.  You have interesting ideas, but take much too long to develop them into plots.  I compare you all to Harry Potter, and you all are falling short.

To the creative center in my brain:
          I wish that you could just come up with an interesting story, so that I could write you, and then read you.  Then I wouldn't have to rely on the measly, boring books that I have been reading.  Also, I might make some spending money off of you which I would use to tour around the world.  I would like that.  Let's get a crackin.

To the mess in the closet under the stiars:
          Katie and I totally rocked your world yesterday.  You are no longer a thing to be feared and shrunk away from.  You don't haunt my nightmares and block out the sunshine of my happiness.  You're a gonner.  Heh.  Hehehehe.

To Nordstroms Rack:
          Tomorrow morning I will be visiting you.  I'm really excited.