Dear John,
I had a busy, busy Friday at work. It was my long day; the animals were agitated when I got home at 6:15. We were one short, then Connie got sick and went to the doctor's office, then Emily left in labor. And the holiday-season lull is over. The day went fast and well. And I need for you to come rub my feet now. They hurt up to my waist.

So come back, find the house, buy it, and we'll live happily ever after. Okay? And you can rub my feet after work, and we can work in the yard together, and be happy just being with each other. How's that for a plan?
Well, if you can't manage it, I suppose I'll go to bed early and take Motrin for my feet. But do think about it. I have the perfect house waiting for you!
Love you so, so much,
Joan.
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