1. To my car: For not having the oil changed yet even though you’ve been giving me the “15%” warning for the past week and a half. I don’t really know what that is 15% of, but, still, I’m sorry. Please keep your brakes working.
2. To the people who invited me to holiday parties/functions tonight: I had intended to go at some point, but instead I wrapped a comforter around me on the couch and marathoned the rest of Boardwalk Empire. Don’t mistake my inertia for antipathy. Merry Christmas.
3. To country music: As a proud northerner/city-dweller/NASCAR-hater, I will talk smack about you at the drop of a ten-gallon. But I’ve been listening to Hank Williams Sr. and Waylon Jennings. I mean, It’s been a tumbleweed and twang kind of day. And I’m digging you. So…we gonna be cool. (But if you say anything to Brad Paisley, we’re fucking done.)
4. To my digestive system: I know what peanuts do to you. I ate some anyway.
5. To my cell phone: You are more powerful in terms of memory and speed than the computer that my parents spent over a thousand dollars on to get me through all four years of college. You let me access email, texts and anything on the web in seconds, instantly access to news, and pursue hundreds of opportunities for diversion. But sometimes you restart when I don’t want you to, which makes me hate you and dream of when I can replace you with something newer (which will also inevitably disappoint me for some yet-to-be-defined reason). You deserve better.
6. To Five By Five Hundred: Once again I’m posting my Saturday piece in the early morning hours of Sunday. I’m sorry that, in my 30s, I still adhere to the “the day hasn’t ended until I fall asleep” rule.