You're prob not going to read this

Nobody reads this blog on a Friday—not even me! I close my eyes while I type.

So, despite the fact that none of us are reading this, my eyes are shut tight and I'm pretty sure I'm asleep and dreaming, here goes tonight's blog....

Dear Planet Earth, 

Let's stop asking people "How's it going?" or "What's up?" unless we genuinely want and expect an answer. Note: 'how's it going?' is NOT a stand-in for 'hello'. 

This particularly applies to hiking, when you pass a group coming down the trail. Just say hello. Resist the urge to say 'how's it going?' Why? Because it's confusing. By the time the person says, "Good, thanks. How are you?" you're long out of earshot,  halfway up the mountain. 

My mom says, like all of life's irritations (see: shirt label size conspiracy), this 'how's it going?' thing is a new phenomenon. Her and her friends talk about it. "So, are you supposed to answer or not?" they ask each other. 

I tell her, no, you shouldn't answer. Not unless the person pauses and makes eye contact.

But the truth is, nobody should be put in this perplexing situation in the first place. 

Just say hello. 

Repeat it with me. 

Just say hello.

Thanks, 
Margaret Kay 
CEO of Madgespace

P.S. Brits, you're not off the hook. The same applies to your version of the don't-really-answer-this question — "You alright?" 

GOD, that's awful. It took me years to stop answering, "Yeah, why? Do I look sad? Injured? Sickly?"

An open letter to Woolite

Ugh. I need to clean up my computer desktop. There are Word icons as far as the eye can see. Time to drag some in the trash and hear that satisfying crumpling sound. Hmmm...it can wait until tomorrow.



So what's going on with that new royal baby? Why do they wait so long to announce the name? It's obnoxious. Just tell us already. I mean, not like I care or anything...



I can't write tonight. My eyeball hurts and I need to relax for an hour before bed.



Plus, I have nothing to say. I thought of a million ideas over the course of the day, but as usual, I've forgotten them all. So, my only option is to write an open letter to Woolite. That's my only option.



Dear Woolite, 

Thank you so much for making me feel like a proper adult. And for allowing me to wash my delicates without fear of shrinking, fading, pilling, fiber damage or shape loss. 

When I sniff the armpit of my favorite blouse and it smells like onions, I know that you'll be waiting for me on the shelf above the washing machine. Just as Jesus turned water to wine, the way you transform BO into BA (beautiful aroma) is nothing short of a miracle. 

I'd be remiss not to mention your retro logo. What can I say? It's cute! And the pink turtleneck sweater that you feature on your bottle transports me to JC Penney at Bellevue Square in the early '90s—the cluttered clothing racks that I would crawl under and pretend were houses. Oh Woolite, you're always bringing a smile to my face. 

Again, thank you. Thank you for reminding me that, even when I'm feeling down, I can always think of you and remember that I own at least one clothing item worthy of your care. 

Love and gratitude, 

Margaret