Dear Diet Coke,
I joke about it. But I really do think I have a problem. hah.
I heard this on Gilmore Girls yesterday and immediately identified:
"that's my mom. she's 90% water. 10% caffeine."
But yet, I just love you.
You taste delightful.
So, until I can fully wean my body off the caffine (it's happening slowly, but surely)...I'm planning on enjoying you while I still can.
You are AWESOME.
I select an artist I already love, and you match me up with more lovely artists...of similar style.
It makes work much easier to survive.
Dear The Office,
I'm starting to think about filling my coworker's phone handset with nickles like Jim did to Dwight. I think it would be hilarious and might make laughter erupt throughout the newsroom.
Dear Exercise Facilities,
I wish I had a greater desire for people to see me panting away during the morning...and didn't want to work out at 2 am...when I'm off work and still awake. Gah. I need you. Call me!
Dear Work Thermostat,
If you weren't set at "hypothermia", that would be great.
It's ABC's new Newsroom Survivor...Eugene Tundra edition.
Seriously, though. Two days in a row I've worn long sleeves and a sweater and I'm still freezing.
Dear Fifth Grade Crush,
We talk for hours on end. And as much fun as our tickling flirting and constant giggling is...ask me out! I won't say no. I promise. PROMISE.
p.s. You're a hottie. Just FYI.
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