I tap the step counter on my wrist to check my progress for the day. After inputting my calories consumed into my health app, I can see that my usual target of a calorie deficit is unsurprisingly a calorie surplus after my epic dinner (and too much wine) with Amy, but after her catching me out with the scales, I felt like I had to clear my plate to prove a point. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself, because it’s a more flattering excuse than me being a piggy.
With just ten minutes to go until midnight, I walk laps around my bedroom to try and get my steps up for the day, because more steps equals more calories burned. The fact that I am tipsy from all the wine is only making this more difficult, but that’s all the more reason for me to do it. I don’t have much floor space in my room, which makes this even trickier, but Amy had decided to stay the night and she just doesn’t get why I want to lose weight. That’s because she’s so happy in her skin. If she caught me exercising at this time, she’d flip.
I pace back and forth a few more times before stumbling over nothing – possible the thick fumes of alcohol in the air – and hit the deck. Unhurt (or just too tipsy to feel it) I laugh at myself. That’s when I notice the CD Amy gave me and curiosity gets the better of me. I pop it in my CD player before hitting play (making sure the volume is low enough not to be heard) and getting in bed.
As I listen to what the voice on the CD has to say, I frown. This is silly. I’m supposed to just repeat a few chants and tell the universe what I want and it will just hand it over? If only life were that simple.
The voice talks about deciding what you want, and asserting yourself.
‘Repeat after me,’ the voice instructs. ‘I am in charge of my own destiny, and I deserve a better life.’
‘I am in charge of my own destiny, and I deserve a better life,’ I replying, mockingly.
‘It doesn’t work if you take the piss,’ I hear a voice say softly from behind the door. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Sure,’ I reply, embarrassed, although I’m not sure why – at first because she caught me listening to it, but then because I was taking the piss just a bit. The thing is, after the shitty cards life has dealt me, it annoys me that the voice on the CD is implying that all I had to do was ask it not to.
Amy turns off the CD player before climbing in my bed next to me.
‘So, what are you asking for?’ Amy enquires.
‘Hmm, let’s see… How about that I fall in love with Mr Right, ASAP?’
‘Beats the Mr Wrong you’re with now,’ she teases, before changing her tone to a more serious, concerned one. ‘You’re not yourself, babe.’
‘I’m fine, just a bad day,’ I tell her and leave it at that. I won’t tell her about Will pushing me underneath a desk because she’d hit the ceiling.
‘Not just today – generally. You’re like a different person. He quashes your spirit.’
I laugh it off. ‘Just a bad day,’ I tell her again, but I feel my eyes filling up. Stupid alcohol, letting my emotions get the better of me. Suddenly, it’s all flowing out.
‘My life is passing me by,’ I admit. ‘With each second that ticks by, my death gets that little bit closer. I watch the seconds turn into minutes, then hours, days, weeks, months and eventually years. I see the so-called “best years of my life” vanishing before my eyes. And I hate my job so frigging much.’
‘So quit,’ Amy suggests.
‘I can’t, because I need the money, and it’s the only time I get to see Will. But it’s just so boring, and all the women in the office hate me – I don’t know if it’s because they have suspicions about Will and me, but it only pushes me closer to him, because he’s the only person there who cares about me, which only fuels their suspicions,’ I babble. ‘Argh, I am miserable.’
And drunk, apparently.
‘So do something about it,’ Amy insists, wrapping her arm around me.
‘I am,’ I sob. ‘That’s why Will is taking me away, so we can sort out what we’re going to do. I don’t want to lose him, but I told him that I can’t go on like this. He says we’ll figure it out.’
‘Well, there you go,’ Amy replies, although she sounds unconvinced.
Despite telling Will that I cannot go on like this, the truth is that I would rather go on like this than call it a day. Sometimes I worry that he’s only organised this trip to appease me, and then when we return things will just go back to normal, except it will be worse because I will have had a taste of what life would be like as a proper couple. It has appeased me, whether it was intended to or not. The mere suggestion of us spending a few days alone together was enough to drag my mood from my impending death to filling me with hope that one day we will be a proper couple, when he can finally go public about the fact he’s separated from his wife. But with enough alcohol in my bloodstream to kill an elephant, all my worries are at the forefront of my mind. If all goes well I’ll feel on top of the world, but if not then it’s back to reality, back to our hopeless situation.
‘Look, you know that I think you can do much better, but if you want him to get serious then you need to show him that you’re not just this thing that will wait around until he’s ready to love you.’
‘Tried that before – remember?’ I remind her.
‘I’m not saying you should get with someone else, but show him that other people do want you. Is that Geordie guy at work still bugging you for a date?’
‘He asked me out during his first day on the job last week. That was when Will saw and told him off. Since then he hasn’t asked again. He does sit on my desk every day and chat to me though.’
‘Good. Let your boss see.’
I nod thoughtfully, but the truth is I couldn’t do that to Will. In fact, despite the new guy being nothing but friendly with me (and ridiculously gorgeous – probably way out of my league), I am borderline rude to him. The thing is, I don’t want Will to be upset by seeing the two of us together, and the new guy just won’t take the hint and leave me alone.
‘Try and get some sleep,’ Amy insists, climbing out of my bed. ‘Things won’t seem so bad in the morning.’
‘Thanks for everything. Dinner was great,’ I call after her.
‘You’re welcome,’ she calls back. ‘I’ll be listening out for you throwing it back up.’