Enough Already

If I hadn't have figured it out by now it would be one thing, but since about third grade it's been clear, I can't spell.

I can't spell.

I can't spell.

Now that I've told you please don't correct my spelling in a text message, an off the cuff email or a note I dashed off to you while running out the door. I know, my spelling is poor. The world isn't filled with spellcheck. I don't always have a dictionary handy. Its clear enough. I sent that text while walking through a parking lot, I never read it so, yeah, it's wrong. I wrote that text while talking to someone else so, yeah, I didn't check the spelling.

I'm not one to think that misspelling is ok but in some cases you should let it slide. You correcting me stopped being cute with that one silly text message. But now, I don't care what you think about my transposition of letters, my mixing of Us and UAs and AUs and whatever I may do.

Your perfection is smothering me.