EVANSTON, Ill. (May 13, 2018) – In a shocking move following a whirlwind week that featured repeated junkets from Evanston to Chicago (the “Commute”), numerous late-night bottle feedings while her domestic partner (the “Husband) was out of town and three straight evenings of eating leftover baby food out of a jar while huddled defeated over the kitchen sink, a 5-foot-8, 175-pound frame of tired flesh (the “Body”) launched a surprise hostile takeover bid for Tracy McDonough (the “Company”). Details of the bid reveal the Company has been consistently undervalued for at least three decades.

Okay. Play it cool. Don’t look. But I think those Tapered Jeans 30% Off are tailing me.

Why do I think that? Well, for starters, they’ve been popping up in my rear-view for two long weeks.

Well, where do I begin when it comes to my dissatisfaction with this product?

I’ve always been led to believe that this novel was a classic, which would provide me with weeks of non-stop literary pleasure. Instead of which, I woke up at 9am, on the day Amazon Prime promised that my “pleasurable” item would arrive, to find my husband lying dead beside me.

Dear Hailee,

I want to congratulate you on your 10-month-and-counting tenure of living in New York City. Based upon the recent life update posted on Facebook, you have experienced many things in the last 300 days and now consider yourself “a true New Yorker” (Marie, 2018a). These 300 days don’t take into account the time your spent at your parents for both Thanksgiving (Marie, 2017a) and Christmas (Marie, 2017b) or the photos of you on a beach in Cabo (Marie, 2018b). That trip lasted eight days, not including flights (Marie, 2018c)(Marie, 2018d) and included a four hour delayed flight on your return trip (Marie, 2018e).

I first encountered the new barre studio in my neighborhood as I was walking home after meeting my coworkers for drinks. The light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminating the crisp white walls and hardwood floors caught my attention right away. Suddenly I had flashbacks of my high school days as a pink leotard-clad ballet dancer, standing gracefully at the barre as I plied and pirouetted to my heart’s content.