Dear Credit Card Companies,

Leave me alone.

I have absolutely no interest in finding myself further in debt by opening up another card.

And let’s be real, racking up a little extra debt is tempting when I have only $13 in my bank account. Your shiny, plastic temptations come when I want to rip open those envelopes the most.

But you’re only out to hurt me.  You’re only out to ruin my credit.  Which is ironic because your a credit company.

And, to add further insult, you’re letters are inconvenient to throw away.  I have to shred them to prevent someone else jacking up my credit after they steal my identity.  I have $13 to my name and I don’t own a shredder – stop making my life hard.

I’m working to bring down my debt.  I got a second job and I’m freezing my current credit card.  I don’t buy coffee out anymore.  In making significant changes to better my financial situation.

Stop pre approving me. Stop tempting me.  Leave me alone to work off my debt in peace.

Sincerely,

Olivia

Dear Heatwave,

Listen Bro, we’ve got some problems.

To start, your incessant temperature spikes drive me insane.  Who enjoys weather that is well into the 90’s? I didn’t like the 90’s even when I was growing up in the 90’s, okay? There is nothing fun you can do in this weather.  The beach is unbearable.  Sitting in the shade is a bit better but still far from enjoyable.  Work is bearable because that’s where I can find air conditioning.  And Sleep? Forget it.  You’ve ruined my relationship with Sleep for the foreseeable future.

Then there are the people who are excited for your arrival.  You know who your supporters are — those people who “run cold” and need to lay out in the sun on a rock in order to generate body heat.  These amphibious individuals confound me.  How does the harsh sun you brought to the party not causes these people have sweat slowly dribbling down their lower back? It’s not normal.

There are so many things about you that I can’t stand.  And, quite frankly, I think I may hate you.

I know that nothing I say to you will make you leave faster but I do think I saw a back to school commercial the other day which means Fall isn’t far away and that means cold air is just a few more weeks.  Until then, I’ll battle you with my trusty Fan.

Waiting for you to leave,

Olivia

Dear Work Day,

You should only be part of my day.

A typical weekday should have the following aspects:

  • A morning part: Where I wake up, lie in bed until the last second, brush my teeth, make breakfast.  It’s a hurried part of my day but only because I make it that way so I’m ready to jump into you.
  • You (Part I): Where I sit at a desk for 3.5 hours.  Starring at a screen, getting coffee, making copies, starring at a screen, getting more coffee, opening Excel, starring at a screen, sneaking Trivia Crack on my phone.
  • Lunch: An hour of pure bliss in which I either go to the gym, read a book, or watch an episode of Chopped on my phone.  Essentially it’s an hour in the middle of you where I can do whatever I so choose.
  • You (Part II): Where I repeat Part I but with less coffee so that I can fall asleep.
  • An evening part: Where I get on a crowded train, head up to the Bronx, make a beautiful dinner, pet the cat, watch TV, write blog posts and watch more TV.  The Evening Part is the best part because I get to do the sleeping part in this part.

See? It’s kind of nice how this day is laid out.  You are a major part of it.  You make up an entire 7 hours of my day (that’s 35 hours a week) or 30% of my day if you are a math-minded non-human.  I don’t know why but I assume that you are probably a math-minded non-human.

But the problem began when you started taking up more than double of my day.  That means you were cutting  into the lunch part, the evening part, and most of the morning part.  A lunch hour, I can give that up to make sure a project gets done in time, sure, that’s just good work ethic.  Staying a little late or coming in a little early with the goal of completing a task on time seems worth it.  But it’s all three and I’m staying later and later day after day with little change, then I know that You, Work Day, are taking up too much of my time.

It’s not me it’s you.

Which is why I’m putting my foot down.  You are now only 7 hours of my day and nothing more.  9:30 to 5:30.  I’ve missed the Morning and Evening parts too much.  I’m behind on my Chopped episodes.  I’m slower on the treadmill.

So, you stick to your 7 hours and let me live the rest of the 17 hours the way I see fit.

No more crazy hours from you.

Sincerely,

Olivia

Dear Fate,

You’re a bit of a bitch, has anyone told you that?

Sure, sometimes you intervene and ensure that planets align so that us mere mortals can happen upon an ice cream truck at the exact moment that we are craving ice cream but that’s like, what? Once every 12 years? ….If we’re so lucky.

But when it comes to times when you could interfere and truly make a difference, it’s as if you wimp out.

Is that it?

Does the pressure get to you?

Well just imagine it on our end!

Oh, you say, My power is to great, you say, and if I meddle too much mortals won’t know how to make things happen on their own!

Yeah, I’m really feeling for you right now…

I’d kill for your powers.

For the ability to make everything work out perfectly.  To walk through the turnstiles just as the doors open to an empty subway car that doesn’t smell like vomit….To learn that the boy you love returns the feeling without all the bullshit that’s involved in this texting-driven, relationship-fearing, age we live in…To find one last container of guacamole at Whole Foods and no line in the 10 items or less check out…

You have control over our world.

So stop being such a bitch and throw us a bone once in a while, alright?

I’m sorry I had to be so harsh but sometimes someone has to step in and take control of You, right?

Buck up,

Olivia

 

 

To the Person Who Stole My Cell Phone:

I keep making up stories about your life.  It helps me calm down.

Because, when I first realized what happened, I was angry.

But can you blame me? I mean, you took away one of the few connections I had to safety during my commute home.

Not that I necessarily feel unsafe traveling home.

But, at the same time, in that moment when I woke up and felt the emptiness in my hand where my phone had been, I suddenly felt like everyone on that 6 train was staring at me.  They weren’t sympathetic looks either but strange, lewd, and leering faces.

You probably think I sound extreme –  I do have hyperbolic tendencies.  It’s not like a phone has a magic power that can keep me safe.  There isn’t an app for that.   But knowing I had a link to another person who cared for me kept me feeling like nothing bad could happen to me.

When I got home, my anger turned into vulnerability.  You came up to me, when I was asleep*,  you placed yourself in my space, and you touched me.  You had to have touched me in order to get my phone.

After a shower, a trip to the police station, and a long shift at the restaurant, I calmed myself down.

I sat down and I did what I do best: told myself stories.  Because, the way I see it, something must have gone wrong in your life in order for you to steal my phone.  What life have you led? Where have you lived? Who hurt you? Who made you happy? What was your favorite subject in high school?  Were you more of a McDreamy or a McSteamy fan?  McDonalds or Wendys?

And as I created your image in my mind, I hated you less.  I came to realize that you probably had good reason to do what you did.  Or a bad reason to do what you did.  Life isn’t something that simply makes sense – if it made sense then there’d be many more boring parts to it.

I wish I could say that if you had simply asked me for my phone that I’d have handed it over because I would have instantly recognized your deep need for it.  I wish I could say that I was nice enough to be that quick with kindness.  I wish I could say you had approached me when I was alert.  I wish I could say that you had given me that option to hand the phone to you.

But you didn’t and life has moved on.

Again, I don’t know you but after molding you in my head, I can soundly say that I hope you get where you need to be (or a little closer) to where you are trying to get to in life using my phone.

All my best,

Olivia

*Don’t fall asleep on the subway.  Not just for the obvious safety infringements but also because people will go on to tell you how stupid it was to fall asleep every time you tell the tale.