May 9th, 1942
Dean,
A month and a half has passed and it couldn't have gone any slower or faster if it tried. I'm pleased to report things have been going well. School is picking up once more and I have reached that point in the year where I consume record amounts of coffee just to keep my eyes open. When it's only noon and I'm already on my fourth or fifth cup I begin to worry; as the general consensus is that sophomore year is child's play compared to junior year... so I guess I should have taken that into larger account when I decided to double major.
Sam's doing extremely well. He's biting his nails like crazy again and looks like he could drop dead at any moment due to lack of sleep, (and considerable less coffee intake. I too remember the days when tea was enough) but I know it's simply because of the nerves that come along with college acceptance. Apparently the results are supposed to arrive within two weeks with the news. He already got accepted to KU, but you and I both know his heart is set on Stanford. I'm sure he'll get in. He's a smart kid- smarter than me. And as I am currently seated in my own dorm room at Stanford…
I'll be sure to inform you of the good news in two weeks; I have not a doubt.
I've also started to read the newspaper. It's surprisingly interesting. Just three days ago a farm cow got stuck in a grain mill. After being trapped for two days they eventually squeezed it out by covering it in grease. Exciting.
Finally; I am pleased to note that I have mastered, or just about, the typewriter. You can probably tell due to the considerable decrease in strikeouts and the lines being somewhat parallel and straight as they should be. I count this as an achievement.
See you soon, Dean. I need (you) someone to remind me to sleep at least once before finals.
1060 more days