You suck. It has been decided, due to your immense suck-age, you should be stricken from the work week.
Dear Over Jovial Patient,
Thank you for repeatedly referring to my ponytail as "scraggly" and "scruffy." I cannot help it that my hair can barely be brought back into a high pony without a few whispy stragglers fighting to stake their claim on top of my head. Unfortunately, I was too concerned with finding your chemotherapy orders and placing them in pharmacy in a timely fashion, to worry about my appearance. Having only met for the first time today, you and I do not have that kind of rapport in which we can make fun of each other.
Promising to use a little extra hairspray next time,
Dear Oblivious 1986 Dodge Neon Driver,
Thank you for paying no attention to the Interstate whatsoever while maintaining less than the posted speed limit and practically sideswiping my vehicle in an attempt to perfom some sort of kamikaze lane switch while chatting away on your cell phone. Oh, what's that? You couldn't see me? Maybe that's because the duct tape you were using to adhere you side mirror to your door was obscuring your view.
With utmost disdain for your craptastic driving skills,
Dear Tuesday, Wednesday Thursday and Friday,
You'd better be on your best behavior this week. Or else I may be reduced to a tantrum-throwing, excess wine-drinking lunatic.
All my love,