25-50-75: Day 8

25

Absolutely no progress.  Everything is as it was a week ago.  Better than gaining weight, for sure, but not so joyful on the losing front.

Book room boxing and hauling is giving me more upper body strength, I can feel the muscles working with less pain than they did a week ago, so that is goo, but I haven't made it back to the gym.  I love it there, but I can't get motivated at 5 a.m., and I don't want to go at night, which means I either sacrifice time in the book room or at the pool, and I don't want to do either of those things...I'll figure it out.

50

Started An Arsonist's Guide to Writer's Homes in New England today by Brock Clarke.  It's good so far, funny, a little irritating.  The protagonist/arsonist accidentally burned down Emily Dickinson's house in Amherst and killed two people in the process.  The novel follows him in the aftermath--the way aftermath--after he's served 10 years in prison for the crime and emerges a 28 year old virgin with an inability to tell people he loves the truth about his past.  

I'm definitely engaged, but if he doesn't do something redemptive soon, I'm going to have to decide if reading the whole thing is worth it.

I ran into a dear friend at the pool today who complimented me on my efforts on this little quest--thank you for that affirmation that this isn't just floating in the void.  I don't know who's reading, and I'm not really writing for anyone but me, but come on--we all like to hear feedback once in awhile, right?

***

On another note, my dear ex-husband stayed the night here last night.  The carbon monoxide detector in his apartment went off and it rattled him--me, too--so he crashed on the couch.  It's the first time we've spent the night under the same roof since the month he moved out, June 2010.  It was a little weird at first, his familiar pajama pants and college t-shirt, the tightening in my chest when he played with Zelda, but then that was it.  No pain, no remorse, no sadness.  I didn't once look at him and think we should still be together.  It was just one friend helping another out.  I'm so proud of us that we can be this way.  Our divorce was never about not loving one another.  It was about loving each other too much to stay in an unhappy marriage: we wanted each other to be happy, and it just wasn't going to happen in our marriage.

So, here's to happiness, wherever you can find it, even if--especially if--you have to make really tough decisions to get there.  Joy is worth it, people.  You are worth it.  Always.