You are my sunshine.

Dear Sun,

I have been wracking my brain for the past three days, trying to figure out what I did to offend you. I know I've taken you for granted in the past, and I haven't always told you how much I appreciate it when you show up and work hard 300 days out of the year (which sure is more than I can claim), but I can't remember the last time you've stayed away for this long a stretch. (At least since we've been hanging out together in Colorado, anyway. There was that dark and desperate time known as The Seattle Year, but we've agreed to put that behind us and speak no more of it.)

You know I can't function for long without you. The first 24 hours were fine, and after the sweltering heat of Atlanta I almost appreciated a little cool weather. I nearly made it through the second day in good shape, too, but by the end of the day (when it had been raining on and off pretty much all day long) I began to wonder whether there might be something more afoot than the "afternoon thunderstorms" you like to play with at this time of year. Now it's Friday afternoon and you've been AWOL since late Tuesday. I know I must have upset you, but I'm just not sure how.

If you'll just come home in time for the weekend, I'll do anything to appease you. Do you want me to be more careful about sunscreen? Should I show you the new bikini I've yet to get much use out of? I'll even plant flowers in my garden for you to shine on (though I can't promise their long-term survival under my inexpert care). Just please, please come back to me. I've got rocks to climb and trails to run and roads to bike and Qs to Bar-B-, and it's just not the same without you.

Please, Sunny dearest. I miss you so!