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Those days were full of skepticism, yet there was hope; I planned to change my anti-letter ways. I dedicated myself to a career of faithful missionary-writing. Many friends of mine left on their missions and I felt it was my duty to write them. I promised myself that when they left I wouldn't let them bob under my radar. I failed, gracefully. Months have flown by and I haven't started a single draft. I repeatedly say to myself, "Self, you should be ashamed not writing your friends." But it doesn't matter; I just won't listen.
There is an art to these one-paged wonders,according to the picture. There is a whole book on the necessary steps to a successful letter. I am inexperienced in this affair, perhaps I should leave it to the professionals. Such as Lisa.
Lisa Christensen, my roommate, writes nine missionaries a week. Nine. I wish to clarify... Lisa writes nine missionaries a week. She is a natural; if she pulled some smashing footwork she could market that skill. Nine letters. At this point I haven't written one letter in eighteen years. That is changing soon. I make it a goal to write one missionary at least annually. I understand that a letter per year is a lofty goal, but I won't be subdued. The lucky missionary will receive two precious letters from me his entire mission.
And so a New Era arises. The Era of the Letters. The sound of angel choruses serenade me to victory. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
And I will begin that Era promptly next week. Or next month....
I will begin...eventually.
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