17th Day, Month of Seeds, 1846
Mother, I know you were looking forward to joining me at Addermire, but the place is a brutal disappointment. The advertisements you were keeping seem to be from years ago. It's no longer the beautiful, luxurious place described in those leaflets.
Apparently the current director, Dr. Alexandria Hypatia, decided to turn Addermire into a hospital of sorts for the underclass.
I don't even have my own room! I'm told that the old VIP suites are "impractical". So I sleep nest to some gray-faced fellow who coughs his lungs out all night long. And they've refused to give me access to the Moir tanning boxes! They're now only used to treat the miners with vitamins deficiencies, developed apparently after not seeing daylights for months.
Can you imagine one of us being treated like this?
I'll have to stay until the next decent ship departs for Gristol, assuming I don't catch something disgusting by then.