Dear Mean People,

You stink.

I am normally a pretty cheerful person.  But you know what, right now I am grumpy, and it's mostly because of you.

First, my Blackberry goes missing, prompting me to launch a full-scale investigation. (Which included tracing my steps around town, creating a detailed timeline, reviewing my call and data logs, creating a list of facts and assumptions.... I really should just be an investigator for a living.)  My efforts have led me to the conclusion that the phone went missing during the short time I carried groceries from my car to my apartment the other night.  Which means that one of your kind stole it.  Yes, stole.  Did you mistake it for your own Blackberry?  Did you not see my hand-crafted signs?  Did you not think of turning it into the building's lost-and-found?

And then yesterday a package gets delivered to my apartment at 2:48 pm, which I am able to see on UPS.com in this sophisticated age of technology.  But of course I am not home at 2:48 pm, or for several hours afterward.  So what happens?  You took that, too!  I sure hope you are getting great use out of the $20 sweatshirt which I ordered to wear to the gym.

I'm not so certain that you're not somehow responsible for the fact that I got trapped in an elevator today, too.  I almost missed a plane because of that.

And you know what is the worst part, mean people?  Let me tell you.  It's not that you have taken my beloved Blackberry, or that you ripped off a package which obviously wasn't yours, or any of the other wrongs you have committed.  It's that you have caused me to walk down my very own hallways with bitterness and suspicion.  And that you have put an ugly blemish on my optimistic view of humanity.

You see, mean people, unlike you, I like to imagine that humans are good and decent and honest.  But I guess that's probably not very realistic.  So instead I imagine that your kind does not immediately surround me, but instead exists somewhere out there on an island community of mean people.  But  it would appear that is false.  You are in my very own town, in my safe neighborhood, and maybe even living down the hallway from me.  You are like that gross rotten spot hiding within an otherwise crunchy and delicious apple, just waiting to show up and ruin someone's afternoon snack.  (That was an odd analogy. I don't know why I thought of that.)

Anyway, mean people, thanks for nothing.  My only consolation comes from knowing that the world has a mysterious way of working things out just when you feel like you are flying high.  And that is probably not good news for you.  But that's between you and the world.  Good luck with that.

Okay, and my one additional consolation comes from the knowledge that this recent stroke of bad luck has thrown me off balance, and that is no good; it must be remedied.  Does this mean I'm going to get very lucky during the next few days?  During this upcoming holiday weekend, perhaps?  If so... I'll take it.