Excerpt from the letter:
No kidding says a smug you and thanks for recognizing I’m being pulled in a hundred different directions at once. Who appointed me the official go-to-fixer for every damn thing that goes wrong?
Honestly you’d think no one else is capable.
Dare I suggest her role might be self-appointed?
Not that I’ve been intentionally eavesdropping, but I’ve yet to hear anyone asking her to do anything but simply listen to life being shared.
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