Letters for Muscles
February 21
My Dearest Muscles,
Noah had our stupid party today. I woke up in a foul mood, and I almost refused to help decorate. I’m being a real Scrooge. Does that count? It’s not Christmas. Would it be politically correct to say I was being a real Hitler? It was 1952, after all. Anyway…
I settled and helped, eventually. Chandler told me that it was easier if I tried to keep things as normal as possible. You wouldn’t want me to mope around all day, so I did my best to have a good time. Everyone knows you’re away. Everyone knows it’s hard for me, and they keep saying that, but they haven’t a clue how bad it really is.
I wish I was a good cook because I’d love to throw a dinner party. That sounds so trivial at a time like this, but I’d love to have some giant dinner where I could cook a huge meal for all our friends, and we could eat, and drink wine, and be so happy. Like nothing was ever wrong.
My mood’s been a little up and down, but I feel like a dinner would be really beneficial. If only. It’d make me so happy. I know you want me to be.
I know you’ll never read these, but I wanted to thank you so much for bringing joy not only during holidays (granted, this isn’t even a real holiday) but during my everyday life. Thank you for taking me to a castle and making me feel like a queen, like somebody worth it. Thank you for turning my life around for the better, even if I dragged my feet the whole way. You mean so much to me, and I think about you every day. I love you.
Happy “Winston Churchill Abolishes British Oppression” Day!
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie
Noah had our stupid party today. I woke up in a foul mood, and I almost refused to help decorate. I’m being a real Scrooge. Does that count? It’s not Christmas. Would it be politically correct to say I was being a real Hitler? It was 1952, after all. Anyway…
I settled and helped, eventually. Chandler told me that it was easier if I tried to keep things as normal as possible. You wouldn’t want me to mope around all day, so I did my best to have a good time. Everyone knows you’re away. Everyone knows it’s hard for me, and they keep saying that, but they haven’t a clue how bad it really is.
I wish I was a good cook because I’d love to throw a dinner party. That sounds so trivial at a time like this, but I’d love to have some giant dinner where I could cook a huge meal for all our friends, and we could eat, and drink wine, and be so happy. Like nothing was ever wrong.
My mood’s been a little up and down, but I feel like a dinner would be really beneficial. If only. It’d make me so happy. I know you want me to be.
I know you’ll never read these, but I wanted to thank you so much for bringing joy not only during holidays (granted, this isn’t even a real holiday) but during my everyday life. Thank you for taking me to a castle and making me feel like a queen, like somebody worth it. Thank you for turning my life around for the better, even if I dragged my feet the whole way. You mean so much to me, and I think about you every day. I love you.
Happy “Winston Churchill Abolishes British Oppression” Day!
Yours Lovingly,
Blondie