Dear bugs, Please leave my house. Pleeeeeease. You are annoying. Love, TPS.

Dear Stomach: You're not really hungry. Mind over matter and all that. Stop telling me that I should embezzle bowling money to get something from the snack machine. Love, mg.

Dear colleague: Yes, I know we used to employ someone to wash the lab dishes. Now we don't. The rest of us exalted PhDs are not too good to spend 15 minutes a freakin' week washing glassware, nor should you be. Suck it up and stop whining. Love, gaspode.

Dear gaspode: stop procrastinating and write the review. You're always ranting aobut how peer review is the most important part of science publication. So do it already! Love, gaspode.

Dear Christian Siriano: Please stop posing in exactly the same way in every photo. It looks like you've photoshopped yourself into the pic. It's not so fierce. Love, gaspode.

Dear Landlord: I know that you own both properties so you think it's a cool and great idea to not put a fence between us and the people on the left, but for us it is extremely not private and awkward.

But, on the other hand, you are a saint compared to our last landlord, you did a great job with this house, and we love living here mostly, so thanks for being awesome minus some awesome for the fence thing.

-b

Dear Walker, Texas Ranger,

You've got AIDS.

Dear Landlord, You better convince the owner of this buiding (your father) to give me a key to the newly-locked backyard. It's not my fault the people upstairs let their evil dog tear it up. I lived here a year and we treated the backyard just fine. So I hope you'll allow us to use it again. Sincerely, TPS. p.s. my chihuahua can fit through the fence and I can climb over the fence, so you better believe we'll be using it whether you let us or not.

Dear Doctor B.,
Thanks for letting me nap in your waiting room for an hour, then letting me reschedule in a month. Preciate it.

Oh hai there, Menstrual Cycle? It's me, MsAli. Look, couldja do me a HUGE favor, and hold off just a few more days? I got a pap smear scheduled for the morning, and I have already had to reschedule once. Do ya mind? Just this once? Kthnx.

Dear upstairs neighbor, Is it really necessary to vacuum your 550-sq-ft apartment with hardwood floors three times a week for 30 minutes each time? I find that a broom and dustpan followed by mopping does the job quite nicely and doesn't annoy the shit out of my downstairs neighbor. You might want to try the sweeping/mopping combination sometime.

Love, smich

Dear people applying for our posted jobs,

One thing you should know is that the more you pester your potential employers, the less likely they will be interested in hiring you.

One call to confirm receipt of the resume and ask for date of notification: awesome, very professional.

Same call, only lengthened by 5 minutes in which you ask questions about schedule and dress code that you won't need the answers to until the increasingly unlikely moment at which I may offer you the job: less awesome.

Repeated calls with "I just thought you should know that I can begin by April 7..." and "I forgot this one thing, I have another reference I didn't include" and "Is there any chance, if I got the job, that my schedule could accommodate my internship in Edinborough in July" and "I was wondering if you came to a decision yet" - very much not awesome, and not helping your chances.

I am busy trying to read your applications. Don't make me think you're going to be a high-maintenance, needy employee by being a high-maintenance, needy applicant. There's a solid line between enthusiasm and harrassment. Take it easy! Que sera, sera!

Dear former co-worker,

Told ya.

Sincerely,

bmarkey,
no longer having to wait for you to show up for your shift.

Dear Texas Lottery,

Thank you so much for your thoughtful gift. I plan on putting the Mega Millions to good use.

Your friend,

Doohickie

Dear Collegue,

If you're going to get upset everytime I don't notice you're in a huff it's going to be a long year.

Thanks,
s_r

Dear Insensitive Neighbor,

While I appreciate the fact that you are working at 17, and generally being much nicer than in years past, I don't appreciate you blasting your car music at 10:15 pm or later as you arrive home. I am an old fogey and in bed between 9 and 9:30, and generally just getting to sleep when you ruin it. You park in front of my house, and the sound slams right through our bedroom. I would ask your mom to maybe have you turn it down, but I've noticed that she does the same thing.

Thanks anyway,

redvixen

Dear Mom,

Pulling the passive-agressive bullshit between my brother, father, myself and you, isn't cute. It isn't the way rational adults (which we all are, believe it or not) act.

Suck it up and try actually TALKING to your son when you are angry with him, instead of telling me to tell him. We aren't 2 years old.

Go eat some real food so you're not a total bitch,
Your daughter.

To the elderly black man in the laundromat in 1983:

You accused me of being racist because I wouldn't carry on a long, involved conversation with you in a laundromat. Although I will accept the your point that I have prejudices, I must tell you that it wasn't because you were black. It was because you were OLD. And talking to me in a laundromat with nobody else in it. I was told by my mother never to talk to skeevy old men in laundromats because the next thing you know they're going to show you their junk. It wouldn't have mattered if you were black, white, or chartreuse. It is very likely that you had no intention whatsoever of showing me your junk and you were just looking to pass the time, in which case I am sorry. But please, don't go thinking that I am a racist when, in actuality, I am an ageist.

Sincerely,
the twenty-year-old girl you randomly chatted up in the laundromat.

Dear (male-white-no religious or other-persuasion)Patient,

while I accept that you had the approval of the Chief Executive of the Hospital for your actions today can you please explain to my gossipy GF why?

I understand your younger wife (43) mother of your two young chilluns (3 & 5) is concerned at this, your third reintervention for Ca of the prostate (you being 67 an all).
I accept it when you tell me she had it written into your wedding vows 7 years ago that you would never be alone at any stage, at any time, with a person of the female persuasion.
Did you honestly think when you agreed to that, it also applied to the female anaesthetist, female scrub nurse, female Radiographer WHILE YOU ARE PARALYSED FOR SURGERY???
Were you embarrassed that we held up surgery for two hours while we created a totally male team for your surgery? How did you feel to know that she insisted on sitting in the anaesthetic induction room with the door to theatres wide open even when we had an all male team for your surgery(completely against our vaunted MRSA/clean strategy)?
Were you aware that in the TOTAL absence of a religious or other ethical reason we think she's a doozy? And that she spent your entire surgery talking to the underemployed FEMALE scrub nurse in said induction room while I struggled with a male nurse who had never scrubbed for Urological surgery?

While I completely accept that your wishes were respected, me and my team at the end of the day, are wondering..... why????

Your friendly, but bemused (and there is very little that bemuses me TBH) urological Surgeon.

(disclaimer: This is honestly the conversation I had with a friend today who rang for advice, but really just to jaw about how gobsmacked he was that this was coutenanced. I said that's the beauty of the NHS free for all even the doozies! But I'm still wondering what the wife was worried about..... sperm-napping????)

Dear Tommy,

I can't believe I sprayed you with water! I was just holding my spray bottle about to spray some plants when you walked by all fluffy and dry, and next thing I know I'm spraying you with water. As I pressed down my thumb I thought "Really? I'm spraying the cat and she hasn't done anything wrong? This is kind of mean. And weird." And then I said aloud, "Oh my god, I sprayed the cat!" and laughed for 3 minutes straight. I'm sorry, Tom. But not for laughing. Your startled prance away was funny.

Love,
birdie

PS - Wanna nap? Meet you in bed in 5.

Dear chrismear,

Please stop 'attending' 'events' by turning up two hours in advance of said 'events' and getting rat-arsed in a poorly conceived attempt to forget your problems, because it never ends up looking good.

Sincerely yours,
chrismear

Dear Ear of Corn,

You're delicious!

Love,
Halonine

Dear Dr. Urologist:

Thanks for making me wait an hour and a half in your waiting room. I'll never forget the three precious minutes of your time that you bestowed upon me.

Sincerely,
me

PS: Fucking quit quadruple booking appointments. Kisses!

Dear mystery subway rider:

Please don't eat barbeque chips washed down with booze and then breathe on me. I still feel gross two hours later.

thx,
Sass

----

Dear hairdresser:

Don't spent an extra twenty minutes fussing with styling when I'm going out into the rain with an umbrella AND you know I will never style it that way again AND I told you to stop it already. Also, don't ask if it's too short *after* you've already cut it.

Also, I crazily overtipped you and you totally know it. The least you can do is say bye instead of waiting to see how big the tip is and *then* chasing me out with a "next appointment with _____" card.


----

Dear Toronto:

I'm not in love with you anymore. Sorry. I'm not sure if I ever was. Maybe it was just a fling. My only relief is that I know you won't even notice if I stay or go. Time to work out an exit strategy?

It's been real.

Sass

Dear People who make Goldfish Crackers,
Please help a girl out, and try to more thoroughly distinguish between the packaging for "Original" and "Cheese" goldfish crackers. I bought "Original" by mistake, because the goldfish on the package are orange, even though I really WANTED "Cheese". I refuse to blame myself for this mistake, so I blame you instead. Thank you for your attention.

Love,
TPS

when I'm going out into the rain *withOUT* an umbrella

Dear Husband,

Why are you sleeping on the couch? I'm betting that you will wake up later, stay up late, and then repeat the cycle tomorrow. I really can't have that because I need you to be alert and peppy while we clean the garage together tomorrow. I know I haven't shared these plans with you yet, and for that, I apologize. I do have a gut feeling that you will be very enthusiastic about cleaning the garage.

Love,
Your devoted and delusional wife

Dear new upstairs neighbor:

There was absolutely no excuse for you not to let me know you were doing extensive construction and to cut off your vestibule--which is considered a common area of the building. I've learned there are a lot of people in Appalachia who are pissed off at you and am debating whether or not to give them your home address once I've left....

brujita