Gimme gimme gimme, I need, I neeeed

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a really good girl this year. I’ve cut my carbs, I’ve done my yoga, I’ve read more books than ever, and I’ve fed the homeless. I have also continued to love and care for two adopted kitties. ( I don’t think the boutique puppy counts as charity…) I’ve stopped rolling my eyes at people at work and always eat my vegetables.

So this Christmas, pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaseeeeeee pretty pleeeeeaaaaassseeeeeee, all I ask of you is if you can pull some strings on Christmas Eve and make sure my flight home comes in ON TIME. I do not want to spend Christmas Eve stranded in the Atlanta airport guarding my suitcases and sending angry text messages to anyone who will reply sympathetically. (Wait, I’m having Newark flashbacks from October…) All I want for Christmas is for my parents to pick me up on time, and to break my ban on carbs long enough to inhale all my mother’s holiday food.

That’s all I want.

Oh, and could you also promise that my car will run for the next year without breaking down? Grannywheels needs to last me at least five more years for me to save enough money to go to grad school.

Sincerely,
MMB

PS Lulu is probably on the naughty list, but if she isn’t, could you please bring her a gift that will make her stop throwing up. Seriously. She throws up almost every day. I think out of spite for me putting her in her crate while the cats get to roam free while I’m at work…