You know what I hate.

Thank you notes.

If we’re all going to be honest with ourselves, a “You’re Welcome” card to your thank you card for a wedding would sound like this:

“You’re welcome. I actually didn’t want to come to your wedding because I’m your in-laws cousin’s roommate and not even sure why I got an invitation. I didn’t actually have anything else going on and apparently “I don’t want to” isn’t a valid excuse to write on an RSVP card.The money I gave you guys was just the amount that I googled about the venue because social norms say I need to cover the cost of my plate. FYI, I don’t think that chicken was worth the 200 dollars. Either way, you’re welcome. Hope you don’t get divorced.”

End note.

Thank you notes are a relic of a time when women sat at home and their lives revolved around manners.

Nowadays send me a text, a meme, a gif but let’s not bring paper and the US Postal Service into this exchange.

And don’t even get me started on opening gifts at a bridal shower.

“Thank you, how did you know?”

Well you put it on a fucking list and I bought it for you. What the hell are you going to do with a crystal gravy boat? And thanks for parading these gifts around, letting everyone know what people can afford. I love the awkward feeling of unspoken wealth and poverty surrounding a party.

This mimosa is divine though.

I’ll let it go for baby shower gifts because tiny things for a tiny person is beyond adorable but there’s no need to show everybody your new breast pump. You’re my friend and you have breasts but really that’s the extent of what I need to know about them.

In conclusion, don’t send me a thank you note. The gratitude is implied with the gift. And it’s going in the garbage maybe 10 seconds after I open it.