Dear Pandora,
How is it that you seem to know me better than any human ever has? Okay, except for that acapella version of Ben Fold's You Don't Know Me, what was THAT about?
Dear bandit who steals all things sugary and homemade from our apartment,
TWO ENTIRE PANS OF CINNAMON ROLLS? What did you even do with that many?
Dear boyfriend,
Thank you for helping me clean, and getting things from the grocery store, and taking out the trash twice.
Even though I try and beat you up...repeatedly...
Dear Campus Plaza and it's inhabitants,
Looks like I might actually miss you.
Dear mum,
Wish I could make cinnamon rolls like you.
Dear M,
I asked a lot of people for advice, and yours was the best, because you told me to do whatever I want.
Dear whoever does the cleaning check,
Go easy on us, we're just worn-out humans with limited cleaning supplies.
Dear Melanie,
Thank you for letting me hold onto the bicycle seat while wearing roller blades even though we almost died going up the hill and I had my butt sticking out the whole time.
Dear Lynzie Glaus,
Thank you for condensing 3 wonderful months into 4 fabulous minutes
No comments:
Post a Comment