It's awful. My throat and head both hurt, my face is hot and my hands are cold. Pick one, body, this is bullshit. Ugh. This is the last thing I need right now.
Charon likes the fucksies. He'll take whatever he can get.
Love you toooooo. Good!
I want to talk to you about another thing, but tomorrow and not here. (No one's in trouble, I'm not mad, I'm...mostly fine.)