Dear D.B. Drivers...

Dear D. B. drivers,

Please, please, please, PRETTY PLEASE use your signals when you intend to change lanes.

Thanks,

Cat.

Wait, while I'm at it, stop at all stop signs, don't tailgate, and for the love of gawd, please don't sit at a red light in the lane beside me that's going to end right after the intersection, and then speed up and cut me off in my own lane when the light turns green.  I really hate that.

I also hope you end up upside-down in a ditch.

Thanks,

Cat

Dear Time...

Dear Time,

Please stop.  You are depressing me.  Not because I'm aging.  I'm still in denial about that and not ready to address it.  In my mind I'm still somewhere between 10 and 14.

It's because everyone else is aging.  And fast!  How is this possible when I remain eternally young?  Maybe I attach myself to people, places, and things from the past far too much, and looking at the present state of things get me sad because things change so much over time, even though we don't notice it.

So again, Time, I implore you to take a break from ticking down for a while.  I know you won't listen, because your steady passage is the only thing one can be sure of to continue when all else fails, but just know that the request is out there.

Thanks,

Cat