Once upon a time, I had this great co-worker named Susan A. We worked out together, we crafted together, and she made the most amazing desserts EVER. (Can you say "Nolan's Cocaine Carrot Cake, boys and girls?!) When I got sick, she singlehandedly arranged for meals to be delivered to my home for 35 days after my surgery.
Then, one day, Susan moved to the other side of the USA and I was sad, because it meant I couldn't see her, or her dog Emily, or husband Ben. And it also meant I couldn't eat her scrumdiddlyumptuous baked goods anymore.
That is, until the other day, when a birthday delivery of ohmygodnoreallythey'rebetterthansex brownies arrived, with a note from Susan, some potholders she crocheted, and some CDs she knew I wanted.
Ladies and gentlemen, Susan A. rocks. Simply put, I don't deserve a friend as good as her.
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