Threat Level Mow

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Dear Chelso,

I have been the worst and a cripple, so I apologize up front. I always feared something would happen to my art hand. It looks like healing is in my future and nothing permanent has been hurt, but my mother and others continue to look at me with worry. My pointer fingers have become agile but my texts are still short. My handwriting looks like a young boys poor penmanship. Tell Chris I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do his request art yet.

Work has been trying to slowly throw me into all of the obstacles they have. I’m terribly slow at all of them and people don’t understand how I’ve managed to be so slow. However, as there seems to be no proper training for this job and I am comfortable with my capabilities, I have yet to be ashamed of any criticism I get.

I love hearing your stories about school, it’s fun to hear you bringing your Chelso charm with you as you conquer the world. I feel like this part of your life is bringing you much more satisfaction than your undergrad did. I also appreciate that you are surrounded by libras these days.

The weather is stupid hot and apparently it’s supposed to be stupid hot until the end of October here. I will have to stare at all of the cozy clothes in my closet for another month. I need to move somewhere colder.

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