Achilles is sitting on me and purring, and I can barely reach the letters. He is a very sweet boy who acts like a baby. How are you doing today? How is everything back home?
Mom and I went to watch a friend’s play, and Aaron’s car (which we were using) broke down. We had to spend the night at the friend’s house and get a tow truck, and now I have to bicycle to work until it’s fixed. Alas, my aching legs. Do you have a bicycle? I know you have a few old ones in the garage, but I doubt they still fit. I remember bicycling around the neighborhood. Alas, how I miss it. It is not the same now.
A piece of good news: I might be getting counseling at some point. I hope it happens. Mom doesn’t seem to believe in therapy (far preferring consumerism) but I have some hope in it. Sweets and pretty things do not do much for long, though having them is nice (seeing only ugly things would make me feel worse — such as going off the island and back into the normal American landscape, sigh). Do you have therapy? I wouldn’t expect Mom (Mel) to support that, alas, but I hope otherwise. I may have mentioned this: Mom (Jess) found a picture of Mom (Mel) and showed it to me, and how normal she looks. Alas, alas. Her hair is more gray now. I hate how much older we are.
Achilles is off of me now. He’s sleeping on the floor now. I’m going to go do laundry. I miss you. I love you.
With love,
Alice