I'm still sick but my mom is making me go back to school. The only reason I'm not putting up a fight is because I'm lonely, otherwise I'd beg to stay home. I won't make myself sick because I know that won't really do anything, she wouldn't believe me anyways. I really don't know what's wrong but your tea seems to help a lot. Malaise had fun making it with me, we had quite the conversation actually. It was quite nice.
I found the most wonderful pair of scissors today. They're very sharp and look as if they're ancient (though they're probably only a few years old and just worn out) they look to be barbers scissors in a way. Very pretty.
My mom has been yelling at me ever since she got home an hour ago because I seem to be a constant pain to her. So far I've been yelled at for: not walking the dogs, leaving fabric on the floor, leaving dishes on the table, leaving out a paintbrush, making tea at odd hours, telling my sister to be quiet and stop critiquing my every move (not kidding, she had a legitimate list) and for being sick. Perfect. Oh, now I'm being yelled at for writing.
How are you? I can't wait to see you on friday, it seems so close, yet so very far away. Don't be sorry for not being here, at least I get to see you friday. We'll make the best of it, I promise to bring you your 'surprise' (I'm putting that in quotations because I know that you pretty much know what it is) and we've both got something to share. I still wonder why you miss me, I don't really deserve to be missed this much. I'm not worth that in the least. Not worth the pain you're in. I promise that someday I'll make it up to you.
All my love and heart and soul,