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Another Round of Correspondence

Dear Swine Flu,
I am hauling my precious babies to the pediatrician's office tomorrow where they will be injected and sprayed with tiny bits of you, all to protect them from what the newspapers are leading me to believe is The Next Bubonic Plague. I am a little bit terrified, not least because I am taking two children to the pediatrician BY MYSELF, and I do hope you are going to behave yourself and leave them alone. Deal?
Maggie Cheung

Dear My Eyebrows,
Now if YOU get swine flu, that's fine by me. About half of you needs to disappear anyway. Remember when we used to have a standing date with the nice waxer lady? Yeah, those were the days.
Your Owner

Dear Diet and Exercise,
It's like you've gone on a months-long journey to outer space. I'm slowly making the somewhat devastating realization that I can't just act like a normal person who eats normally and gets enough normal activity. Oh no -- I have to be just as OCD with you as I suspected myself to be. Apparently I have no happy medium when it comes to maintaining weight loss. Either I am religiously recording every morsel deposited in my mouth, or I am gorging myself on leftover cheesecake for breakfast AND lunch (dinner remains to be seen). At this point I am not entirely sure which it will be, Diet and Exercise. I shall keep you posted.

Dear Health Insurance,
Perhaps I know next to nothing about you. Perhaps I have not paid one ounce of attention to this Health Care Legislation stuff I hear is going on in our houses of government. I've had three or four friends lament your rising costs in the last several weeks, and while I was sympathetic, I wasn't truly irritated with you until my husband informed me that we will be paying you an extra hundred dollars per month. Part of me is grateful that's ALL you're asking for (one friend? $800! I KNOW!) but the other part wants to stamp my foot and shriek, "BUT THAT'S MY HOUSECLEANER MONEY!"

Dear Housecleaner,
We're going to have to break up before we even got the opportunity to know each other. I do want to tell you that the day you came over was one of the best days of my life. Sinking into the couch at nap time knowing that every inch of my house was sparkling was the most amazing feeling in the world. My husband could have come home that afternoon bearing diamonds and it wouldn't have made me any more blissful. I shall now go cry into my filthy sink.

Dear Dinner Dishes,
I mean it,