An Open Letter to the Crazy Cat Lady Down the Street

Listen, I get that you don't really like us. Which is ridiculous, as I am pretty much the most likable person I know. Besides the fact, that I even made you cupcakes when we first moved in, and I am pretty sure the rule is you bake us something to welcome us to the neighborhood. But, whatever. I completely understood that you were busy not mowing your lawn and stealing our paper. I didn't even get upset when I saw you in the grocery, and I said "Well hi neighbor," and you ignored me and I felt like an idiot.

Is this because I am a bit too liberal with the walking around half dressed thing? Because I know I do that a lot, but I am not used to a two story house, or lots of neighbors this close, and I know I should get blinds, but your husband doesn't seem to mind much in the mornings (aaaannnndddd burn!). Anyways, I am so working on that.

And it really is unfair to judge me based on that, as I don't judge you based on silly things. Like the weird giant old west wagon thing in your front yard. Or the way you planted silk flowers in the ground around your house. I mean, it would have been a bit more believable if the flowers weren't turquoise roses...and it wasn't January. Or how about when your husband, who is at least 50 pounds overweight, insists on jogging in the shortest boy shorts ever made. I am so scared to even look directly at him, for fear I will see an old disgusting ball hanging out the bottom (too far...I know). And I am not even going to touch on the 40 cats in your house. My point is, we all have flaws.

I get that you just loved the family that lived here before us, and that you feel the need to remind me that you continue to talk to them all the time. I am sorry that you think they would be upset that we removed the clay pig wearing overalls from the front porch ( I swear we told them to take that bastard with them at closing). I know you liked the previous owners better than us. I get it.

But I am telling you right now, if you continue to shovel the entire street's side walk EXCEPT mine, even though I always shovel yours, it will be on. I mean, what sense does it make to completely skip over the 50 feet of sidewalk in front of my house, yet continue shoveling for at least 300 yards on either side of me.

You suck, and I am never ordering girl scout cookies from your daughter again (Actually, probably not true. I hate you, but I don't "never eat another peanut butter patty again" hate you.).