Dear Mr. Sandman,

I thought we had a deal. Last night, I decided I would forego sleep and clean my room. In return for your cooperation, I would be very productive. Here was what I was going to accomplish:

Two (2) organized closets.

One (1) walk-in closet that I can actually walk in to.

Fifty Bazillion (5x10^1000000000000) coins picked off the floor.

Zero (0) bathrooms that I am ashamed of.

So it was all good, right? You were going to hold off and I was going to actually use my time productively. SO WHERE THE BLOODY HECK ARE MY KEYS?!?!?! I had them when I started, now they are gone. I do not recall putting them away anywhere, but where are they? Where? Where? Where? I got places to go! Things to do! I didn't leave any food out of the freezer last night so I can't eat until I find my keys! I have a job lead to follow up on! C'mon. Where are they? Was this part of the contract:

One (1) Set of lost keys.

Or this?

One (1) Pissed off R. Alex.

Or this?!

One (1) Laughing Sandman.

I DON'T DAG GONE THINK SO! I have the contract right where... how bout that! They're where my keys are. So you just find the contract and prove me wrong. I dare you! I double-dog dare you!

Heh. That's what I thought.

Prick.

Best,
Author on the Blog You Do Not Read

PS You know I'm just joking, right? I mean, I'm about to take a nap and I need to get up in three hours or so. I'm going to need your assistence on that. So maybe in three hours you can help me get out of bed, show me where the keys are, and I'll write you a really nice poem or something. You know how much I hate writing poems, but I'd write one just for you!