Chapter Two

"Get in shape, girl, you'll love the feeling.

Get in shape, girl, it's so appealing."

Kick-ass 80's commercial

Dear Lorenzo,

I have no idea where to start this entry.

I'm not sure why I'm having such a tough time writing tonight. Amira's lying beside me, sleeping soundly. The TV is on of course, but it's been muted and the only distractions I have are the whirs of the ceiling fan and the occasional sound of fireworks from some asshole who can't accept the fact that the 4th of July has come and gone.

Although it's past 10:00 p.m., I'm not particularly tired because I've done nothing but sit on my ass all day.

I've done nothing but sit on my ass for the past two years.

Don't get me wrong, I've taken breaks from my inertia. I still love to work out and so on most days, I take long walks or use the elliptical or even jump up and down on the trampoline. And I always show up for our daughter, of course, but other than that...

Couch, tv, potato chips, wine.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

If you could see me now, you'd barely recognize me.

I barely recognize me.

And it's not just because I've gained so much weight, you never gave a shit about that so you probably wouldn't notice, but...it's my lackluster attitude. I no longer have the energy to even pretend to care about much of anything these days.

This isn't a life.

Not the life I want to live.

So...Mira and I leave for Boston in a few weeks and the plan is to stay for the entire month of August (or, until my mother and I can barely stand to look at each other, much less live together, a moment longer). But before we leave Chicago I will take the next two weeks to revise my resume and submit my applications for grad school.

And I've gotta get serious about losing some weight. No more fucking around. I'm old so it won't be easy to lose but I finally feel ready to try.  

And I don't want to work anywhere that makes me miserable. My life is hard enough right now without adding a shitty job to the equation. I want to work for an organization that appreciates me. I want to surround myself with people who make me want to get up and get out of bed every morning. 

I want to be happy again.

Despite the fact that I can no longer be with you.