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It's Friday!
I've got a few things I need to get off my chest so I can have a good weekend. So I've written a few letters. I think you may enjoy some of my moments of misery, confusion, and dingy-ness.
Dear Zynga,
Why is Farmville so addicting????? Seriously, I looked back and my blogging totally stopped when I started playing. Who knew the "thrill" of collecting eggs, lost pets, and coins would be so time consuming? I miss writing . . .
Re-balanced blogger,
Pollyanna
Dear Weed-gods,
Please stop visiting my yard. You have the freedom to do whatever you want in the empty lots next to our house, isn't that enough? Really, you all do not need my measly yard and landscape beds as a playground.
Wishing to be weed free,
P.
Dear Mulch-gods,
You are more than welcome to visit. I could really use you to choke out the invading weeds. Please feel free to sprawl out all amongst the bushes & flowers.
Wishing for the time, money & energy to do it myself,
Polly
Dear Buffet Concert Goers,
Hey! You know those guys with the orange vests and flags in the parking lot? Yah, the ones in BLAZE, CAN'T-MISS-IT ORANGE? They were showing you where to park. They weren't putting on a half-time flag show. There were no sequins involved. There was no music and there certainly wasn't any coordination of movement.
People, don't ignore the parking attendants and park where ever you want. You aren't that important. If you were you should have paid for VIP parking.
Glad I'm Not A Parking Attendant,
Parrothead Pollyanna
Dear Jimmy Buffett,
You ROCK! Thirty years and counting!
See You Next Year,
Me
Dear Mother Nature,
Did you really have to choose the moment I ran out to the garage to start a deluge of rain?
I was only going to run out and run back in. I was expecting to come inside with a few rain drops in my hair, not as a sopping mess with no towel in sight.
I know I've written you a letter at least one other time about the weather, and I never got a response. That's poor customer service. Maybe I should just take over for the Pleasantville area.
Wet,
Pollyanna
Dear Self (again),
Don't wear Crocs in the rain. You will slip & fall on a smooth surface. Such as a garage floor.
A Little Ache-y,
Me
Dear God,
Thank you for the "moment" last night when my four year old actually saw the big dipper in the sky. I know sometimes she just plays along and says she sees something, but I knew she saw it last night when the level of excitement in her voice rose and she continually pointed at it.
Life is good,
Me
There are others out there who share my thoughts - I'm sure of it. Why don't we all head over to Kat's place to see who else is writing letters this week?
Silver Lining:
- George has a sparkly clean cage. I cleaned EVERYTHING! He was so confused when I was all done (because I rearranged the "furniture") that he almost didn't want to get back in.
- After Hubby drilled a little hole for me, he didn't even tease me about the drill. I knew there was a reason I keep him around. XOXOXO to Hubby.
- Apparently, I'll live after my little rain run. I eventually dried out. And my arm doesn't really hurt from the fall anymore
