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Gone-Girl-by-Gillian-Flynn

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AMY ELLIOTT DUNNE<br />

AUGUST 23, 2010<br />

– Diary entry –<br />

Summer. Birdies. Sunshine. I spent today shuffling around Prospect Park, my<br />

skin tender, my bones brittle. Misery-battling. It is an improvement, since I<br />

spent the previous three days in our house in the same crusty pajama set,<br />

marking time until five, when I could have a drink. Trying to make myself<br />

remember the suffering in Darfur. Put things into perspective. Which, I guess,<br />

is just further exploiting the people of Darfur.<br />

So much has unraveled the past week. I think that’s what it is, that it’s all<br />

happened at once, so I have the emotional bends. Nick lost his job a month<br />

ago. The recession is supposed to be winding down, but no one seems to<br />

know that. So Nick lost his job. Second round of layoffs, just like he predicted<br />

– just a few weeks after the first round. Oops, we didn’t fire nearly enough<br />

people. Idiots.<br />

At first I think Nick might be okay. He makes a massive list of things he’s<br />

always meant to do. Some of it’s tiny stuff: He changes watch batteries and<br />

resets clocks, he replaces a pipe beneath our sink and repaints all the rooms<br />

we painted before and didn’t like. Basically, he does a lot of things over. It’s<br />

nice to take some actual do-overs, when you get so few in life. And then he<br />

starts on bigger stuff: He reads War and Peace. He flirts with taking Arabic<br />

lessons. He spends a lot of time trying to guess what skills will be marketable<br />

over the next few decades. It breaks my heart, but I pretend it doesn’t for his<br />

sake.<br />

I keep asking him: ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’<br />

At first I try it seriously, over coffee, eye contact, my hand on his. Then I<br />

try it breezily, lightly, in passing. Then I try it tenderly, in bed, stroking his<br />

hair.<br />

He has the same answer always: ‘I’m fine. I don’t really want to talk<br />

about it.’<br />

I wrote a quiz that was perfect for the times: ‘How Are You Handling<br />

Your Layoff?’<br />

a) I sit in my pajamas and eat a lot of ice cream – sulking is therapeutic!<br />

b) I write nasty things about my old boss online, everywhere – venting feels

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