Concerns

There is a lady who sends out department status reports every week. She always ends them with "Let me know if you have any concerns."

Since she asked, I used to reply to each of her emails with one of my concerns. She doesn't send out the status emails any more, so I haven't been able to voice my thoughts lately.

Anyway, here are some of the concerns that I raised.

I have concerns that :

    my sundial has started to run slow a few minutes every day.
    I cannot lift both feet at the same time.
    there aren't any emergency flotation devices in the elevator.
    I don't know what came before the chicken and the egg.
    my shopping cart collection won't be complete until I get one from
        Wisconsin and one from Montana.
    someone else is holding my breath.
    my shadow has been stealing the batteries out of my flashlight.
    sometimes I dance like I have two right feet.
    I'm not getting enough fiber in my diet.
    I've been exposed to kryptonite too many times and my x-ray vision is fading.
    the hole in the ozone layer is following me around.
    global warming might cause my 24-hour deodorant to fail after 23 hours.
    my clothes don't have that summer-fresh smell.
    my cheese might go bad before I get home today.
    my paper clips are rusting.
    my supermarket coupons are expiring.
    I haven't completed my Y2K preparations.
    my stapler might be nearly empty.
    I'm experiencing unnecessary hair loss.
    my chakras aren't in tune with my aura.
    I did tae-boe when I was supposed to be doing tai-chi.
    I don't turn left enough.
    I've forgotten what rhymes with orange.
    I hear more voices in my left ear than my right ear.
    I wash my hands more times between 10:15 and 10:25 than
        I do between 11:15 and 11:25.
    I don't feel any younger after I walk backwards.
    my skin will become sensitive to dark and I'll have to stop wearing my clothes.
    the bumps on my head are influenced by the number of Pop Tarts that I eat.
    Judge Judy is starting to look like a Hot Babe.
    I've started wearing men's under garments on the weekends.
    I didn't recycle the recycling pamphlet that came in the mail.
    I might have stepped on a spotted salamander when I was marching to save the whales.
    somewhere there is a seagull who is going to bed hungry tonight
        because it couldn't find enough garbage to eat.
    the lady on the shopping channel doesn't know my name yet.
    I can taste the difference between Coke and  Pepsi.
    I don't know how many Starbucks were built today.
    I don't rotate my tires often enough.
    I shampooed and rinsed but I never repeated.
    I won't be able to match my socks tomorrow.
    I don't know which Starbucks is the best.
    plaid pants will come back in fashion and all of mine are in storage.
    in one of my past lives past lives I liked Barry Manilow music.
    my breakfast cereal is sold by volume and not by weight.
    I don't have a #2 pencil.
    some professional wrestlers don't take their job seriously.
    the metal in my bookcase wasn't annealed properly.
    I haven't burped my tupperware recently.
    if the sun were to explode, I wouldn't know about
        it until 8 1/2 minutes after it happened.
    I left the ice cube tray on counter this morning and now all of
        the ice cubes are ruined.
    I can't remember the names of the Village People.
    when the paint dries, I won't have anything to do.
    my staples weren't safety inspected.
    my semi-sweet chocolate chips are only 45% sweet.
    my neighbor's dog doesn't bark at me when I wear my Postman uniform
        but he does bark when I wear my Sailor outfit.
    the next version of Windows will be significantly smaller and then
        I will have too much ram and too much disk space.
    my dairy products are arranged by shape and not expiration date
    the Eskimo language has 40 different names for snow but
       the English language only has two - white and yellow.
    my socks aren't wearing evenly, especially when I wear them on the wrong feet
    silent letters in my name will become verbose at an inopportune moment.
    gravity might suddenly reverse and I would hit my head on the ceiling.
    someday I'll wake up as a saltwater fish and I only have fresh water in my house.
    if I think too hard, my body temperature will exceed the point of
       spontaneous combustion.
    my anti-gravity boots aren't configured for this solar system because
        they have started acting strangely whenever I hear Bee Gees music.
    my mirror flips my image left to right but not top to bottom.
    if the Earth really is round, all my stuff will roll down to the South Pole.
    the whales are reading my brain waves.
    the space aliens aren't giving Elvis enough jelly donuts.
    the tracking device that the government implanted in my head needs a new battery.
    the government will increase the truth serum in my
        drinking water and I'll tell them what really happened to Elvis.
    the government is spying on me through those cameras on top of the traffic lights.
    the government is monitoring my conversations through the fillings in my teeth.
    the spycams that the government installed in my house are all on the
        wrong side of the room and they don't capture my good side.
    if my amnesia ever goes away, they will expect me to start
        doing brain surgeries again.
    when I fall asleep, I can't repel the alien brain scans.
    if I ever shut both eyes at once the light bulb in my refrigerator turns off.
    PG&E is not giving me my full 60 cycles per second.
    my refrigerator magnets are attracting homing pigeons to my house.
    some speed bumps might not be man-made.
    I can't read the secret message that is encoded in the bumps on my house key.
    the metal detector at the airport is not improving my math and
        reading skills as promised.
    there is a section of the number PI that matches up with the serial
        number of the tracking device implanted in my head.
    my tv switches to Friends re-runs in the middle of the night.
    the people at the closed-captioning company have stopped sending me lottery numbers
        there's no more room for the shopping carts in my garage.
    my sundial doesn't have a day/month/year setting.
    I can't feel the Einstein time-dilation effect when I ride the elevator.
    sometimes I can't find the exit door in the elevator
    sometimes I go out "in" door on the elevator
    sometimes when I lift one foot, I fall over.
    sometimes I can't fit square peg in a square hole.
    my time machine only works at midnight
    I don't know where the extra sun goes when I use sunblock?
    I don't know what's behind my mirror