Dear Student Loan Industrial Complex,
I love you. With all my heart. You made my life possible.
Without you, I would have never gone away to college. I would have lived out my days in Woodbridge, managing an Auntie Anne's pretzel shop, hanging out at the Dale Boulevard Denny's, and producing a new infant of indeterminate sire every spring. I'd live on precisely .25 acres of land and send my legion of brats to the same schools that I attended.
Because you sent me to college, I am a better person. I can write in complete sentences, I can do my own laundry, and I could probably still pull off a keg stand.
But there are a few things we should talk about. First off, a college education is an investment. My investment has not been returned, as my income usually hovers somewhere slightly above that of a fry cook or medical experiment-for-hire. Now, that may be my own fault, but still. Shouldn't I receive at least a partial refund? Or you could comp me a master's degree. Or even a professional gun repairer certificate. At this point, I'd settle for free dessert.
Also, please stop sending me the same letter over and over. Yes, you are perfectly welcome to review my income for 2007. If you can do so with a straight face, even better. Have at it.
But, why do you think I'm still married? Remember that piece of paper I sent you back in 2006 with the words, "Divorce Decree" across the top? Wouldn't you take that to mean I'm no longer married?
Perhaps you're old-fashioned, and you're hoping we'll give things another try. No chance. Or perhaps you're secretly controlled by the Vatican, and I need an annulment to get my ex's name off the forms.
While we're discussing names, my maiden name was restored to me by the great state of Alabama. Other aspects of maidenhood have not been restored, despite fervent prayers and sacrificial goats. But I'm back to my birth name. So please stop sending letters and bills to a woman who no longer exists.
Not Mrs. Johnson