WTF. I think you may be bipolar. One day you’re the nicest wrists in the world to me. The next day, you sucker punch me. Except not really…because on those days, punching would be asking a lot from you. Get it together already!
I am so proud of you! You did such a good job the other night in those faaaantastic cowboy boots. Yee haw! You stood for several hours without complaining and weren’t even sore the next day. And for that, I dub you Joints of The Month. (Take notice, Wrists.)
Thank you for putting up with me, even though I have a tendency to yell at your staff when I don’t feel good and they’re being annoying. I appreciate your offer to put me in another study but if it means I can’t start tapering down the Prednisone, I’m not interested. You see, I’ve gained over ten pounds on it that I’m itching to lose and while I agree with you that being thin isn’t everything, I also think that I’ve given up a lot of things to RA. So do you know how I intend to give up anything else? Simple: I don’t.
Dear Internet Provider:
If you can’t come fix the service that I pay your ridiculous price for, come pick up your damn modem. I’m getting really tired of blogging from my phone.
No xoxo’s for you, Amanda
Dear Cell Phone Auto Correct,
Thank you for your help recently in blogging, emailing, etc. However, you have put me in a couple of awkward situations with your auto correct. Case in point, you make ‘grill’ into ‘drill.’ Imagine what happens when you text your good looking albeit platonic guy friend the following: let’s drill on my patio tonight! Yep, you turned my dinner request into something a tad bit more colorful. You also turn all my Hahaha’s into ‘shoshana’ and ‘crap’ into ‘veal.’ Thanks for the laughs!
I think that’s all for now. 🙂