A flicker of hope passes through her eyes; she looks right then back to the road ahead. "I feel like I'm gonna get some correspondence today," her gleeful smile plastered on. Questioning of feelings and such assurance, questioning of a recurring theme day after day.
"No, I'm hopeful I'll get some every day...but today I feel like I will." Her eyes shrink a bit to widen her reasoning on the matter, "maybe I'm just superstitious but the last time it was on a Thursday."
Her mind begins to drift off into lands of what he does, and why he does so, why Thursday could be The day.
"...these things take forever, I especially am slow,But I realized how I need you..."