I try not to write blog posts about minor grievances — people scrolling Instagram after the lights go down at the movies, cars that speed through crosswalks when pedestrians are clearly waiting, people who write “apart” when they mean “a part.” One of my good friends jokes that I should really have a podcast called “Carrie Hates Everything” where I just complain about all the things that annoy me in life. (The name is a play on my actual podcast, “Everybody Hates Self-Publishing.) The trouble is, that list could go on forever, and this is something I’d rather stop doing than feed by posting about it.
But we’re nearing the end of Blog Like Crazy and I’m struggling to keep up with content, so just this once I’m going to break my silence on one of those little things that drives me bananas — the move from real, carefully written Christmas cards to glossy photograph postcards that bear no personalized message at all.