Dear small, yellow spiders currently populating my car,
Hello, and welcome. I hope you and your eight, terrifying legs are enjoying the free ride traversing Chicagoland during the work week. I'm not sure how many of you are currently joining me on my daily 45-mile journey (as I cannot hear or see you), but I hope the conditions are to your liking. Let me know how the vents are looking, and if you see the sunglasses I've been missing under one of the seats since last spring. I listen to books on tape, so let me know if you have any suggestions for future titles. Together, we can laugh our way through infuriating traffic and the middle finger-throwing friends we hang with every day for nearly two-and-a-half hours. I only ask that you do not pop out from vents or dangle in front of my face while I'm traveling more than 25 miles per hour, as that puts both of our lives at risk.
Thank you for your consideration.
Dearly yours, your captain,