Dear Container,
Where are you? It has been 36 days since you were packed. I would deeply appreciate being able to retrieve my plush Frette robe so I can dress myself in it after stepping out from under my rain showerhead that pours forth an unlimited quantity of hot high pressure water. I would then like to wear you as I proceed to my terrace overlooking the Swan River and sip mimosa with locally made sparkling wine and locally made orange juice. This would all be by myself of course since my Australian phone has only received calls from H (who is currently at work on a holiday), my headhunter, and my real estate relocation agent. Qatar and U.S. friends, you are more than welcome to visit.
Thanks,
Anonyomous Expat
Dear H,
I can’t quite say that I believe you when you say that we will work really hard for another two years and then take some time off to spend together and contemplate what we want to do next / semi-retire. My most recent proof of this is that you took one day off during a four day holiday weekend and acted antsy/ready to get back to work. This comes after working six to seven days per week for the past four plus years. Hence my desire for the above.
Love,
Anonymous Expat
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