It’s not really okay. But I will tell you it’s okay. Don’t be offended when I roll my eyes or flash a pinched smirk and look at you over the top of my glasses. Don’t be offended because my face says “What?” It’s your fault. I’ll say it’s okay, but you better believe it’s not.

I’m perfectly legally parked, but you think I should “center up” or move over 2 inches, or don’t let my front tires touch the concrete lane blocker marker thing.

It’s okay.

I’m sorry that I wrote out the entire thing longhand in blue ink and you prefer black.

It’s okay.

I’m sorry we have eleventy-seven different instant messaging channels and I used the wrong one to have Siri text that I was almost beheaded by a tree that fell on a bridge in the darkness in dense fog on a narrow land bridge with no guardrails and had to back in the darkness in the fog and then make a 5 point u turn trying hard not to fall over the muddy soft land bridge edge into the swamp in both sides and then drive 20 miles going north to go south to get to work and tell you that I was maybe going to be late. And then let you know I made it – alive- 8 minutes late. And your response was – wrong channel.

It’s okay.

But it’s really not.

Until Next Time,

Your Friend, Tracy