Dear Displeasing Drew

Don’t deny it. I am with you twentyfour-seven. I remember so vividly like it was yesterday!  You were at the Seattle Airport. You were tight on catching your flight. It was your fault. It has been snowing for the last couple of days so it wasn’t a surprise that the weather wasn’t cooperating. You knew that the airport shuttle driver was as reliable as uncle Alfred.

When you arrived at the airport, you were unloading all of your luggage and pushing through the line to get rescued by the airline personnel. Then after that you wanted to push through the security line. “Excuse me, excuse me. I am running tight. My plane is going to LEAVE ME!” As if the entire airport personnel will move faster because you are running late.

I noticed how you stared down the security person, to check the items inside your carry-on and re-run it through the X-Ray machine. Your mumble and grunts probably made that officer move a little slower… just probably. Because we know that if the security officer would have security protocol you would be HALFWAY home right? ~ no, wrong!

I know you Displeasing Drew. I think the same thing happens when you go to the grocery store. When you have your items in the conveyor belt and you inch them forever so closely to the person ahead of you. Invade their space, watch your watch, tap on your shoes, cross your arms and sight loudly. You want to make it seem evident that you are in a hurry.

You act as if you are in the verge of a worldwide catastrophe with a deadline for yesterday and you are the only one who can solve it.  From the way I see it, you are embarrassing me at times. I have an idea. Let’s learn how to count to ten and take deep breaths. How about under every breath, you be thankful? Yes, Be thankful that you have the opportunity to fill your cart with food that you need and junk that you don’t. Be thankful that you can get to travel and have a hotel to rest your head while away from home.

How about writing your feelings… put them in a letter maybe?


Me, myself and I.