I’ve come to two decisions. 1) I’ve decided to leave the health club. 2) I’ve decided to go back home to Nick.
I know, it’s a lot to throw at you, so let’s just take them one at a time. First, why am I leaving the health club? Because Jeff and Greta are onto me. They strongly suspect I’m carrying money on my body, and are constantly saying things like, “My, you’re getting toned!” and feeling around my body for where I’m keeping it. And yesterday, when I was standing near them, one of my money belts with coins stuffed in it burst and change came pouring out of my shirt onto the floor.
Given that Jeff and Greta are living at a 24 Hour FitClub, I have no doubt that they’ll try to rob me if they get the chance. So I need to leave, now. Before I do, though, I have to wipe down all the exercise machines I’ve used to remove my fingerprints. But I can’t remember which machines I’ve used, so I’ve got to wipe down every single machine in the club. It takes forever. I’ll stand in line waiting for an elliptical machine, and then when it’s my turn I’ll wipe it down and never even get on it. As if I weren’t attracting enough attention already.
But I’m almost finished, and in a couple hours I’ll be on my Segway again, heading back home. Which brings us to decision 2. Why am I going home?
For the past week the news coverage of Nick has pretty much been the same stuff on repeat. But today there was something different. I saw the headlines on TV:
NICK’S VIDEO CONFESSION!
NICK’S DRUNKEN DECLARATION!
But the TV networks didn’t have the actual interview. For that, I had to pull out my iPad and go to the New York Post website. The video loaded up, and there was my husband. He was at a bar, clearly tipsy, and was speaking to a girl holding a portable camera.
“All right all right, I’ve got a confession to make,” he said. “I plotted to kill my wife. The morning of the day she disappeared, I spent all morning researching how to kill her. But I didn’t do it! Honest to God I didn’t! I also want to give a shout-out to all the ladies out there age 23 and below. Hit me up on Facebook!”
Well this wasn’t part of my plan.
Ok, I’ve got a confession to make, too. My plan wasn’t actually for Nick to go to jail. I originally thought that’d be fun, but on the Segway ride out from Carthage I realized what would be even better is if Nick became really famous through a long televised trial, and then right before the trial was over I’d miraculously return and get back together with him, and my status with my friends would go through the roof. But by coming out with this video, Nick is making himself as famous as any trial would make him. So there’s no need to wait for a trial, and I’m tired of sleeping in the shower and eating PowerPlexMegaBlast bars.
It’s time to go home.
