Dear School Bus Driver,
I am extremely sorry that you were forced to endure the sight of me running out to you in my pajamas. Nay, not just any pajamas, but a pair of bright pink fleece pajamas with multi-colored polka dots all over them. It has been cold, and these pajamas are warm and snuggly. But quite honestly, good sir, I am trying to write a novel in 30 days, and I got off to a rather limping beginning. Now I am settling into the swing of things, and I just don’t have time to pretty myself up. Why waste time brushing my hair, putting on mascara, and changing into socially acceptable clothes when I could be writing, for crying out loud? I will only see you for 60 seconds, and then I will wave goodbye as you drive my precious child off to school. I know that 60 seconds of these rather loud pajamas seem like a lifetime, but our trials only serve to strengthen us. Besides, my mother bought me these pajamas. You would look askance at a gift from my mother?!
Please do not judge my son because I look like an oversized pink cupcake.
Mercedes M. Yardley