Dear The Job,

I know I've written you angry letters in the past, and let's be honest, I will probably continue to do so in the future because I'd rather be a full time artist. That said, I really don't hate you, and in the spirit of Christmas cheer, I wanted to tell you what I like about you. After all, much as I complain sometimes, the fact remains I haven't left you, which in itself is a testament to your not being all bad.

• My coworkers are intelligent, competent, and responsible. I can rely on them to do what they said they'd do, and it's a pleasure to help them out when I can.
• They're also funny. Never underestimate the power of humor.
• The work is challenging. In a bigger sense, I'd rather find my challenge in creative pursuits, but I am glad to have a challenging job right now that's actually teaching me skills that I can apply to those creative pursuits someday.
• You pay me. It's been a year and a half and I'm still beside myself every time I get a paycheck that's over the federal poverty level.
• You do good things. It's kind of a thrill to work for a company that's at the top of its game and plans to stay there. It can add to the stress level, sure, but there's also something incomparable about feelng you're making a difference somewhere.
• You have good food.
• You look cool. The architecture nut in me geeks out about your campus and the design that went into it. Your focus on making function look cool—drains that look like waterfalls; hallways that look like movie sets—delights me when I take a moment to really see it.

So, while I definitely need the vacation that's coming up in two days, and while I'm probably spending between 10 and 13 hours with you today and tomorrow each, I'll come back in January because there are some things I'm really happy about with you.

Merry Christmas,

B

Dear NPR,

I promise there is other news besides Obamacare. I promise HealthCare.gov is not the only thing going on in the world. And I promise there are adjectives besides "disastrous" that apply to the rollout.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear 70 Pounds of Kitty Litter I Put in my Trunk This Weekend,

I love you. Yesterday my car wanted to fishtail about a million times, I could tell. The roads 5 inches deep in some places and wheels spinning at stop lights, the drive yesterday was unpleasant. But you, along with my other favorite invention the antilock braking system, made my little car act like a northern native out there. Thanks for weighing down the back and making traction when the other FWDs out there made it clear I needed it.

Hugs & kisses,

B