A Note to God from a Dissatisfied Customer.

Dear God,

This is my last attempt to contact you after hundreds of emails I sent bounced back, “Mailbox full.” I have to say that lately, your customer service record has been less than sub par.

Over the past month, it has become apparent that you’ve increased your precipitation deliveries from a monthly to a weekly schedule. This has created a backlog of snow on my front lawn, which is becoming increasingly difficult to move since other homeowners also report overstocked inventories.

Because of your accelerated manufacturing timetable, I have already exceeded my overstretched snow removal budget and leg muscle expenditure in addition to winter slippage costs allotted to time spent on my ass.

If you do not reduce your current snow delivery schedule, there is a chance you may lose my business.

In moderation, snow is actually quite lovely to see on perennial plants and limbs of sleeping trees. Are they really sleeping? 

However, once snow reaches the point of excessiveness, it becomes tiresome to look at and can have devastating psychological and physical effects. Besides suffering a tremendous financial loss, I’ve been experiencing precipitation anxiety, outdoor paralysis, and poor eyesight from harmful snow-reflected UV glare.

God, I understand that you sometimes work in mysterious ways, but the only mystery here is when you intend to stop producing such large quantities of snow. As of today, February 2, just after barely starting the winter season, my lawn is so profoundly inundated with snow a yardstick is no longer an appropriate means of measurement.

Do you foresee a decrease in manufacturing in the near future or do you intend to continue your weekly scheduled deliveries? If a snow slow down is not imminent, I can only imagine that this must be a test of restraint to see if I can open the shade in the morning without screaming, “Oh! Shit, not again!”

I admit that in the past I’ve been a bit of an agnostic, as well as a praying opportunist. Is the disproportionate amount of snow traceable to my childhood when I begged you for all those snow days off from school?

If I did, in fact, overuse my praying privileges back then, I dare say you need to teach me a lesson by unleashing a snow apocalypse is a bit heavy-handed. It reveals your tendency to hold grudges and your love of sour grapes. A shrink would call it a transference of anger related to events taking place in the Garden of Eden.

Now I understand why atheists live in hot places.

God, as I sit here writing this note to you today, I received yet another delivery of precipitation, albeit ice. Therefore, I hereby demand that you immediately cease and desist producing excessive quantities of snow and other snow-related compounds.

If your weekly deliveries continue, I will have no other recourse then to hire Satan and resolve this matter in court.

Yours sincerely,


3 Comments A Note to God from a Dissatisfied Customer.

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