Dear week, you sucked. Why you found it entertaining to drag on with one awful thing after another I will not know. I am glad you are coming to an end.
Dear Facebook, how dare you let me drunk Facebook message my ex-BFF the night before her wedding. In that regard, thank you for allowing her to drunk respond. It made me happy.
Dear daycare, you have officially taught me that if we are to have a other child I will be staying home even if that means I cannot ever afford new clothes, shoes, or Zaxbys for myself. It would be worth not dealing with you.
Dear Family, thank you for helping so much with Jack this week. You are all amazing.
Dear Jackson, please get better. Please! Mama can't emotionally or physically handle your sickies anymore. We go back to the allergist for lab results next Wednesday, praying they have answers.
Dear OB/Gyn who is usually a bitch, you caught me quite off guard this week when I came in for a quick girl issue by completely running through my medical history. You are officially the first doctor who is ready to tackle this PCOS they way I'd like. You are now forgiven for messing up Jack's circumcision.
Dear South Carolina Baseball team, please win tonight so that the boss-man can head to Omaha. Also, this entire city will lose its shit if you don't come home with a trophy. I can't believe I'm actually rooting for the Gamecocks right now. No pressure.
Dear Husband, we are doing sushi and a movie this weekend. Fuck the budget, we need a date, a REAL date.
Dear Friday, thank you for being you.