It's time, once again, to reach into the Friday mailbag!
I figured you'd show up. Eventually. You were just hiding from us, in that sometimes-coy way of yours. I'm okay with you being here. Really. Just make sure you leave town before March. Okay?
Dear Woman at D&W:
You looked so cold on Monday, there in the deli section, with your too-light North Face waterproof shell pulled over your hoodie. And those Hunter waterproof boots. I think you were visibly shivering. (It was only 12ºF, after all.) But when you approached me and asked, "Are those lined leggings?" my heart warmed. "Yes," I answered. And then, with a hopeful whimper, you asked, "Did you buy them locally? I just moved here from San Diego. And I'm cold." And my heart melted altogether. I explained where I had bought my super-warm, lined leggings. And then, when you reached out to touch my full length down coat, I told you where I got that, too. I forgot to mention the boots, though. You really need some lined winter boots . . . (Welcome to Michigan, by the way.)
Dear Alabama Chanin:
I hope you'll understand, but I need to stop seeing you. It was bad enough when I visited your website and you dangled that Build-a-Wardrobe plan in front of me. But now, you're even sending me email promotions. And utilizing social media. All with a single-minded purpose: To tease me with your oh-so-tantalizing Build-a-Wardrobe program. Oh, you don't care that I want you so badly, do you? So. Badly. In fact, I'm sure that's your strategy. But I will be strong. I will look away. I will give us some space. Because you are out of my league.
Dear January People:
I try hard to like you. Really I do. I try to hard to embrace you and your New Year's resolutions. But it's so hard. Because there are so many of you. And because you seem to be in the way of all the things I do for twelve months of the year. I will not be lying when I say . . . good riddance . . . to those of you with not quite enough resolve to last longer than February.