CHAPTER 7
MY ALARM CLOCK went off at 6 a.m., and all my good intentions of doing aerobics before work came out in one long, drawn-out groan. Maybe I could just turn over and sleep for another half hour? But then the events of last night came flooding back, including the mountain of fried food I’d munched through and the complete mortification I’d suffered at the hands of Marie, and I dragged myself out of bed because otherwise I’d just have lain there and stressed about it.
At least I only had to go as far as the third bedroom, and at least I could wear a sports bra which, being honest, didn’t smell that fresh, teamed up with a pair of leggings with holes in the thighs that I really should have thrown away months ago.
The endorphins from my workout, or perhaps the sheer relief at having
