Hm. I don’t know how I feel about this book. Actually, that’s a lie. I do. It starts off strong… really strong… then it kinda devolves into this mess that you can’t quite look away from. It feels like you’re reading the diary of a very destructive woman and that’s exactly what you’re doing because Eleanor, understandably, hasn’t been herself since she lost a breast to breast cancer. That being said, I’ve never been a fan of first person narratives where the character is knowledgable of the dumb decisions they make. That whole “I know it’s a dumb idea, but I’m going to do it anyway” thing. I kind of hate it… feels like lazy writing to me. I’d prefer it if Eleanor made “dumb” decisions but the author put the work in to make the decisions at least seem logical from Eleanor’s viewpoint. It got to the point where Eleanor was constantly doing dumb things that she, herself, openly called dumb and I was just sitting here thinking “fuck… stop fucking doing them then!”