Dear Elliptical Machine,

Hello, friend. It is okay if I call you “friend,” isn’t it? After all, we’ve been hanging out together for about a month now, spending “quality time” together most days of the week. And even though, at the beginning, I could only stand to be near you for ten minutes at a time, I’ve gradually found it easier to spend longer and longer sessions with you. Now when we get together, it’s for nearly half an hour. So yes, I think we could consider ourselves friends.

Anyway, here’s the thing. Spending time with you has been good for my heart. My heartrate no longer soars to perviously unknown heights and ridiculously high numbers as soon as I begin to move, and that’s good. But still, when I’m done, my legs are all jello-y, I can hardly breathe, and I feel like immediately falling upon the couch and taking a nap. So could you take it a little easy on me? Or at least say something encouraging while I’m working out? Things would be a lot easier if you said things like, “Good job,” “Keep it up,” or even better, “Katrina — you totally rock!” while I’m exercising.

So, um, work on that, okay? Thanks.

Your friend,
Katrina the Jello-Legged

***

Dear Trader Joe’s,

You do realize that you threaten to counteract all the hard work I’m doing with my dear friend, the elliptical machine, right? With your aisles of yummy trail mixes, cookies, chocolate covered coffee beans, peanut-butter-filled pretzels, and other such goodies…well, it’s hard to visit you and then consistently uphold good health practices.

And yes, I know the food you offer is, in many cases, healthier than the stuff I would buy at Ye Old Standard Grocery Store. But still. If I eat your offerings in enormous amounts, it’s going to cause a problem.

So: you should hereafter sell more vegetables and fewer yummy snacks. Sound good? Good.

Sincerely,
A Very Tempted Shopper

***

Dear poor, neglected boxes in the garage,

I know. I’ve been ignoring you. You moved here with us, from our old house, last October. And while I dealt with many, many (many) of your fellow boxes — unpacking, arranging, storing, putting away — a few of you were left behind. I didn’t abandon you purposely. It’s just…the holidays came, and things got busy, and well…there you are. Faithfully waiting for me, against a wall of our garage.

But perhaps you’ve noticed that I’m back at it. I’m back to unpacking, finally. My goal is to be done unpacking before we’ve lived here 4 months. And that’s coming up quickly. So take heart! You are on the agenda. You will be neglected no longer!

Affectionately,
A fairly rotten unpacker who should probably never move again