Letters I'm composing in my head
Dear New York,
Why do people like you so much? What's so great about you? Seriously, I just don't get it. Why do you have to be rich to get a place larger than 200 sq ft in a nice area? Is that some kind of a joke?
Dear Apartment on 66th St,
Seriously, 47x income requirement? Do you think if I had 47x, I would be looking at paying THAT MUCH for a 300 sq ft apartment?
Dear Apartment on 58th St That I Saw Last Week,
Are you still available?
Dear Taxi Driver,
Why don't you complain some more about the route that it is my right to tell you to take. Seriously, wtf?
Dear James,
Is it wrong that sometimes I wish we weren't splitting up and that we could be happy together? You're such a great guy. Splitting up is scary.
Dear Job,
Are you worth all of this? Really? Do you appreciate me as much as you should? Are you going to show me some love when it comes time for love to be shown next year?
Dear Furniture,
I love you. I'm really trying to find you a home.
Dear London,
I miss you.
Dear Change,
I hate you.
Dear Self,
Suck it up, for Christ's sake.
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Dear Cheap Wine and Rent Boys,
Thanks for being my friend.
Dear Beer,
I ♥ you.
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Beth Ballingall
food lover : world traveller : gamer : New Yorker : twenty-something : former Londoner : handbag lover : erstwhile soprano : geek
Dear Beth,
We'll be your new friends. Then the rest of this won't matter
Yours truly,
Cheap wine and Rent Boys