I wrote you this a week or so ago. It didnt feel long enough to send, but you always send them all, so I will too.
Thanks for giving me your house today. I made myself right at home, just as I always do, but I think I took it to a new level this time. This time I figured out how to use the coffee maker.
It is now well into the afternoon and I am still in my nighty, watching my fith episode of Mad Men, taking hoola hoop breaks intermittently of course.
I love it here, Anna. It is my happy place. I drew this picture for you, you will find it under the goose on your porch. It’s us on the road somewhere in Arizona.
We were driving home so I made the horizon yellow, just like your house.
That’s all I wrote last week when I borrowed your house. Thanks for letting me and my girl stay there last night when we felt sad. You are the truest friend I could wish for.
I love you more than I love sleeping away the sadness.