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To: dmoss@whitehouse.gov

From: jlyman@whitehouse.gov

Date: Sat Feb 10, 2001 4:00 PM

Subject: EMERGENCY!

I thought you were kidding when you said the Secret

Service wouldn't let me in the building. I went in

this morning (just to pick up some files, not to work,

you harpy) but they denied me access. Are you and Leo

in cahoots?

I resent your implications of last night that I can't

enjoy myself in my free time. I enjoy myself plenty.

In fact, today I sat on my couch and watched

television. All day. I was the epitome of relaxation.

Until I turned the channel to CNN, that is. I told

them that Nelson's interview was going to be a thing,

but did anyone listen? Oh no. I called CJ to gloat,

but she hung up on me. I think they gave us that

vacation just to get rid of me.

So, how was your flight? Everything okay? How's Uncle

Vito?

Josh

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To: jlyman@whitehouse.gov

From: dmoss@whitehouse.gov

Date: Sat Feb 10, 2001 4:16 PM

Subject: Re: EMERGENCY!

I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but apparently I

need to control your ego even during my vacation. As I

remember it, *you* were the one who insisted that

Nelson's interview wasn't a big deal. CJ told you it

would be thing. I guess it's good that she's there and

you're at home.

As for Leo and I being in cahoots, I can only tell you

that he is a very trusty ally. It helps to know people

in power. grin

Anyway, I'm glad someone's enjoying themselves. I've

been home for two hours and already I'm huddled in the

linen closet with my laptop, hoping no one will hear

me typing. Ah, the joys of family. My flight was fine.

Not as comfortable as Air Force One, granted, but not

too bad for coach. Maybe if a certain someone paid me

more I could afford First Class, or at least extra

peanuts.

Uncle Vito sends his love.

Donna

Postscript: You must have been so distracted by your

'EMERGENCY' that you forgot to mention what it was

exactly.

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To: dmoss@whitehouse.gov

From: jlyman@whitehouse.gov

Date: Sat Feb 10 5:48 PM

Subject: Huddling?

Why on earth are you huddling in the linen closet? I

understand that family can be frightening, but what's

so dreadful that it necessitates burying yourself

among old sheets and bath towels?

Come to think of it, you said last night that your

family hates me, something I simply cannot fathom. Are

they giving you grief about your job and my splendid

self? I can have the President send them a letter if

you want. You know, just a little something to let

them know that their daughter works for the most

powerful man in the free world. Not only that, but she

works for the President of the United States as well.

Heh heh.

Seriously, what's up?

Josh

P.S. What emergency? I didn't say anything about an

emergency.

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To: jlyman@whitehouse.gov

From: dmoss@whitehouse.gov

Date: Sat Feb 10 5:54 PM

Subject: Huddling? Did I say huddling?

You know how sometimes I get stuck on a subject and

just won't let it go? How I bring it up every few

minutes, eventually driving people to the brink of

insanity? (Yo Yo Ma Rules!)

Well, take that and multiply it by a hundred and you

have my mother. It doesn't matter that I have a

somewhat prestigious job and that I love every moment

of it (wipe that smirk off your face, it has nothing

to do with you) she considers it a waste because I

haven't found the perfect husband yet. As far she's

concerned, every second I squander at work would be

better spent hunting for a wealthy husband (a doctor

or a lawyer would be preferable, most definitely NOT a

politician).

Needless to say, the linen closet is a peaceful

alternative. We're about to have dinner (which in this

household is a formal affair) so I'd better run if I

don't want to be stuck sitting next to my great aunt,

who taught my mother everything she knows.

Stop worrying and go out and have some fun. Call Sam

and see if he wants to go out. No drinking, though. My

roommate is under orders to call the police if you

show up at our doorstep.

Suffocating happily under a pile of old, pungent

pillow covers,

Donna