I thought this open letter to you would be an excellent 100th blog entry. I’m afraid it won’t be all pleasant as I do have a few
I’m sure you have noticed that I occasionally curse you and I am sure that I am just one of the many voices you hear. However, if you could lend me a few moments of your time, I will try and be brief.
The first thing I would like to discuss with you is my financial situation. Would it be possible for you to send me those winning lottery numbers some time before I die? Considering that you are all-knowing and all-powerful and all that jazz, the winning numbers should be well with in your grasp. I would of course do many charitable things with my winnings like feeding the sick and healing the hungry or is that the other way around? Either way, I know you really want me to have that convertible that I have been hoping to acquire one day and those numbers would really help push me into the realm of being a convertible-owing, charity-contributing-to person.
The next thing is my love life. I know I mocked you before in regards to that and I apologize, blame it on hunger or caffeine or lack of sleep. Either way, I am sorry about that. That said… what the fuck? I mean, why the vendetta? Do I in some way offend you and you are dead set on keeping me single until I am in my forties? Did I screw your brother over or something? What ever it was that I did. I am sorry. Seriously.
I know that I can be a bit demanding and that the last few dudes you sent my way (that wanted to marry me and thereby incur the wrath of hell on my life for many, many, many years) kinda sucked. I know I am picky in my wanting of someone that will love me and my girls and not be addicted to drugs or alcohol or have a history of violence and infidelity or be bi-polar, schizophrenic, manic depressive, have self esteem issues or gambling problems or whatever, but could you consider looking around. If he were hot, that would be appreciated. If he were rich, that would be even more appreciated. If he had an Australian accent – ok, I know, I am getting carried away. Sorry.
I don’t have any complaints in the motherhood department right now. This is actually the thank-you part of this letter. I have to thank you because you have given me three of the coolest girls that I could have ever hoped to have as daughters. If the aforementioned complaints are just the things I have to do without because my kids are so cool, please disregard them. But, if you could help Amanda with her math, that would be great. I know that there is nothing you can do about Emilee because she is just nutty period. Oh, but some help this weekend with the potty training would rock.
Other than that, I am good. A few minor favors that would keep me that way would be if you could keep my car running and my girls healthy and my job stable. I wouldn’t mind getting laid every once in awhile… I hope you are well, controlling the outcome of everyone’s lives and the stars and planetary movements and stuff. Don’t work too hard.
Take Care,
Kate
P.S. Your daughter, Karma, is getting so big! Tell her I said hello. I may actually write her soon :)
Labels: Being Mommy, My pathetic excuse for a love life, The Universe
