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 Anonymous Microsoft Technical Writer,

When you wrote this, I have the distinct impression you didn't expect anyone to actually read it. Really? The task list monster? Glorious. Based on this, here's what I perceive about you:

• You majored in English in undergrad.
• You have a perpetually half-finished manuscript.
• You don't have your own office at Microsoft.
• You are doing the work of three people.
• You no longer work at Microsoft.
• You moved in with several housemates to pursue your poetry chapbook.

I wish you well.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Yahoo! News,

Well thanks for that newsworthy headline. Here are some others in the same category:

• Oxygen, hydrogen key to sustaining life
• Many employees unhappy with their work
• Despite regulations, threats, some students still perform at average level
• Brick still stronger than straw, sticks

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Large Corporation That Hired Me Last June,

I've made it eight months, and I count that as a victory miracle blackout ... well, it's something. Probably mostly a sign of my impending insanity.

Thanks for paying me. It's really nice to buy a DVD without worrying about what meal I'll have to skip so I can afford it, and it's really rather awesome seeing my savings account grow instead of shrink for the first time in five years. When I bought my new peacoat on sale for 80% off, it was a pleasant surprise at the checkout, not a necessary reduction so I could also pay rent. It's good being financially sound.

All I'm saying is, I don't really like these 9- and 10-hour workdays that are starting to become regular. I don't like that I come home at 7:30, too tired to eat dinner let alone make it, shower, collapse in bed, and wake up a few hours later to start it all over again. I don't like that I can project a 57-hour workweek and my boss doesn't say, "That's too much," but instead says, "So, things are going well?" I don't like sitting at my desk, dizzy from exhaustion, ready to cry, and knowing it's only Monday afternoon. And I don't like writing about software.

(There. I said it.)

I'm still confused what you, a corporation that hires only 1% of applicants and recruits heavily from Ivy schools, saw in my application and interview, why you decided I would be a good fit. But even more so, I'm confused why you're the only place I applied to that even gave me an interview, much less an offer. I've made it eight months, and after four more, maybe that full year of experience on my résumé will give me whatever it is I need to move on, move out, and move away from the "hyper competitive and quasi abusive" work environment you've developed to separate the career-focused all stars from the 9-to-5ers who have already chosen their career and need only a means of paying for it. All I'm asking is for a 40-hour workweek. I haven't had one of those since 2008.

In other news, I'm getting my first creative piece published in a recognized journal. It is, in fact, the only thing keeping me going each day, this little secret I'll never really tell you about, the deep-down, this-is-who-I-really-am nugget of creativity. My real career.

Insincere hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Jules Verne,

How can your characters be 35 leagues below the surface of the earth and have 1,500 leagues to go until they reach the center, when the earth itself has only a 1,150 league radius?

(35 + 1,500 > 1,150)

Sometimes when I think too much about your books, I'm reminded of the person who once said that science fiction is often not very good fiction, and usually rather crummy science. I could say you were writing two centuries ago and could be forgiven the inaccurate data, but come on, Jules. Eratosthenes was a few hundred centuries before you, and even he wasn't that far off.

Still, your books do give us a lot to think about regarding the way we approach, trust, and depend on science even today. For that, you deserve to remain on the shelves and reading lists for years to come . . . not to mention the silver screen.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Toes,

I get it. We're happy. And I know that you've wiggled whenever I'm happy since the summer I was born. Still. Today's joyful toe-wiggling is getting a little fidgety.

Okay, fine, you're right. I don't mind at all. When the first news I have in the morning is about a dear friend's engagement (and subsequent welcome request to be in her wedding too!), and the sun is shining and the air cool, and the sewing machine I bought second-hand over the weekend works, and I reach the half-way point in the project I'm writing, and ... well ... this day happens ... the most appropriate thing in the world is for my toes to wiggle out of control.

So wiggle away, dear ones. Wiggle away.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Creative Writing,

Seriously, you're being so kind to me lately that I can barely stand it. Get ready for greatness!

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Creative Writing,

Sometimes you're so terribly rewarding that I wonder why I don't spend all day writing.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Creative Writing,

Sometimes you're so aggravatingly impossible that I wonder why I even bother trying.

Hugs & kisses,
B