It's a new day. Freedom! And Day 1 of my self-imposed letter writing challenge. I will be horribly rusty at this and will not be re-reading and/or editing.

A Love Story to My Stuffed Giraffe

Dear McCartney (my stuffed giraffe),
         You are really the best stuffed animal I have ever had, and not just because my boyfriend Nick
gifted you to me. You are the perfect amount of of limbs, belly, ossicones, tail, noggin, and stuffing all wrapped up in the furriest polyester I have ever felt. I take you with me on every holiday/trip/sleepover, (with the exception of Coachella, because I was in a rush to pack and forgot you, for which I am deeply sorry), you are a piece of home for me. My favorite part about you is the fact that you allow me to sleep on my stomach and still maintain breath, ever since you came into my life I have slept apnea free! Curled in the crook of my arm, you keep away all of the mean monsters that appear in my waking and dreaming life while I am in bed. Guardian angel, your ossicones hold an invisible halo above your duck-billed head, I am just sure of it. Always with a knowing look on your face, you assure me that everything will be okay, even when I know I have to wake up before noon and have terrible insomnia the night before. Just look at your picture up there! I know you're sitting at your little giraffe laptop, drinking your little giraffe latte, reading this and thinking "Man! I am all that and a bag of foliage!", and yes McCartney you really are.