Here’s a pretty accurate run-down of what goes through my head as soon as it hits my pillow…

Dear (yes, I start out with “Dear”- is that weird?) Higher Power, or you know, controller of the Universe,

I wonder if other people call you “Higher Power” when they talk to you before going to sleep. I’m sorry, everyone calls you something different but I like Higher Power. It sounds like a name of an early 90’s boy band that didn’t quite reach Backstreet Boys status. Probably because their outfits matched a little too closely (Higher Power, not Backstreet Boys. Although, Backstreet Boys had matching outfits too. Hmm. Actually, they seemed more ‘coordinated’ less ‘matchy’- I think. I never had pictures of them up in my room, but my friend Robyn did and all I remember is Howie wearing a lot of fringe and it scaring the shit out of me. “Higher Power” looked a lot more friendly. Wait, I mean- I just imagine “Higher Power looking more friendly. I’m acting like “Higher Power” was actually a band, but they weren’t right? And if they were, I’m pretty sure you know all about them already. Because as Controller of the Universe, what don’t you know about?).

Anyway.

So thanks for the job. I don’t know how much you had to do with it and how much I had to do with it, but even it if was a 50/50 deal- I’m glad things worked out. I didn’t realize it was going to be so much work. Do you know that there’s an outbreak of pin-worms in the school? Of course you do. I bet you laughed when you decided that was going to happen. And when you decided that Paris Hilton should make movies. By the way, can you stop that now?

Speaking of celebrities, wait- should I be using my time to talk about celebrities? Shouldn’t I be talking to you about my future? Or Darfur? Or asking how my dead cocker spaniel Muffin is doing (hopefully well- remember she likes peanut butter smeared on her dog food sometimes. I know, it’s messy as hell to do but she loves it. And she’s dead so maybe cut her a break and give it to her sometimes okay?) Oh hell, that can wait- speaking of celebrities, I bet lots of people talk to you about Britney Spears and pray for her. I do too. But I’m not going to do that tonight. Because although I feel bad that she’s shown her moneyslot to the universe, sometimes I think it’s important to remember that there’s a few billion other people out there who need a little shout out too. And with the odds as they are, I’m guessing that today was the worst day on Earth for someone on this planet, so I’m going to be wishing good thoughts for them, okay? Send them some good cheer direct from me. Because my day wasn’t a 5 star event- it wasn’t the worst day either. And for that, I’m thankful.

Can I ask you something? Do you ever get tired of people asking you for stuff? For miracles? For jobs and boyfriends and safe travels and clean bills of health? For winning lottery tickets, shoe sales and victories in war? Do you ever want to just close up shop and spend a few weeks drinking pina coladas on the beach? Because I would. Honestly. I’ve only been a full-time teacher for two weeks and already I’m kind of tired of all the dependency issues that come with an army of children. I can’t imagine what that’s like to know 5 billion people are counting on you (I’m skimming off a billion, you know, for the atheists) daily. And then when you don’t give them exactly what they want, or when they want it- they get nasty and shout at you in Latin. (Well, not most people, but did you see that episode of The West Wing where the President loses it on you in the Church? And busts out the Latin so he could be more insulting? That’s why he did it you know, spoke Latin. Aaron Sorkin said it was because he could get away with saying a lot more dirty stuff than if he spoke in English. If you haven’t caught that episode, check it out. It’s a favourite).

Anyway, I just wanted to say good job. I don’t really need anything. Actually, there’s a trench coat that I tried on the other day. I didn’t like it at first- it felt like… well, too trench coat-ish when I put it on, but now I’m wishing I would have bought it. Can you save my size for me until I get back to the store?. Oh, OBAMA, you know what I feel about that. Please, please, please let that one work out. Okay see? I’m doing it. I’m falling into that trap where I ask for things, sorry. How about this- just stick to the plan you have for me and I will stick to the plan I have for me, and fingers crossed our plans are similar. And if they aren’t, and I find myself insanely angry at you because there’s another worm outbreak at school, or I have to hide in a store because you’ve decided to transport one of my least favourite people in the shoe section- I will try not to curse at you in Latin. Okay, I don’t know Latin, but I will try not to curse at you, or think of you with the regard I save for Ann Coulter either. Speaking of- help Ann okay? Or help me understand what the hell she’s thinking because seriously, I do not understand her. At all.

That’s it. Oh, and well done on the Super Bowl. That was a surprise. Speaking of, can Tom Brady and I cross paths at some point? And you know, fall in love so fast and deep that he writes a song about me and how he sees his future in my eyes? Oh damn. Asking for stuff again. Okay, cross out all the things I’ve asked for. Just keep it up.

brandy

(p.s. But if you could save me that trench coat that would be swell. Kthanx bye!)