Dear Tobi

Dear Tobi,
Man I swear no matter how many letters I write I cannot break the 200 mark. I'm at 197...this'll be 198. I feel like I'm completely out of steam with this project and have no clue who to write to anymore. It's almost become a chore. In a way it's kind of nice though. I've quit journaling for the most part and taken up this instead, which probably isn't such a bad idea since all I write about in my journal is complaints. I should start writing "rant" letters to people. "blah blah blah you suck because blah blah blah stop doing this blah blah blah". I'm sure that would go over well. People probably wouldn't accept those as well as they've been accepting the letters I have been writing.
So you're driving...and tired. I mean. You're not actually driving...I don't think. I think you're sitting in a car? Man I feel bad for you...sitting in a car going across the prairies. I don't know if there's anything worse than that. I mean the prairies are nice...but for over 3 hours, I'm set. Like enough prairies already. How're the crops looking? Anything coming up? I'm sure some things are up. Man I do miss it though. Did you see any mountains? Even in the distance? What about stars? See any of those? I miss it all so much.
Today I was in the kitchen serenading to Sophie...and I got this grand idea as I was making up lyrics to make up a musical. So I sang to her about my worries about not finding a place in TO and having to live in a room for two with a stranger...and then I moved onto how I'd have to live in a box...and it went on and on for a good half hour till I decided that it probably wasn't great for my sore throat to be trying to opera sing to the dog. We danced a bit too.
Man I need a life.
I can't believe I missed the Croatia game. I'm so mad. I had to miss the Netherlands game cause of work, but I kept telling myself it was okay cause I'd watch my husband later. But no...I'm an idiot. -sigh-
So two weeks before you come home. Seems too far away. I can't think about it. When I think about it I'm reminded of how few weeks I have left here in St. John's and then I get all panicky. It's insane. You come back and we leave again right away. Bah what am I going to do. You need to come to Toronto with me. I'm going to die.
Wow...look how long this letter is. I feel bad. Most peoples are so short...but yours is long. I guess it makes sense when I talk to you allllllll the time and then you're not here and I'm working all day and I don't get to see you and you never call me and WHO IS SHE?!
....
I'm going to bed now.
Love you.
Sincerely,
Yvette