2019 Will Be My Year

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash

31st December, 2018

Dear Diary,

2019 will be my year.

I’m keeping myself accountable. I’m making every single day count. Every resolution will be achieved this year. It has to. I need to move on.

1. Lose 10 lbs. I need to be healthier and there’s no harm in looking hotter. That’ll show him.

2. Eat right. Plenty of protein. Healthy fats. Limited sugar. More water, less coffee. I need this body in good nick if I’m gonna do this right.

3. Exercise, exercise, exercise. EVERY DAY. Cardio. Kick-boxing classes. Weight-lifting. I have to be able to lift 200 lbs. Nothing less. If I can’t do that, the whole plan is fucked.

4. Save some damn money. My savings account looks nothing like it should. I need cash for equipment. That set of fancy knives I have my eye on is not cheap. Plus, there’s the cut and run money I need. Travel costs. Security deposit and estate agent fees for a new flat. This shit’s gonna cost a fortune. It’ll be worth it, though.

5. Study. Clean-up techniques. CSI shit. Look into blood spatters and fingerprints and all that. I need a strategy that is absolutely failsafe. I need to be smart. And I should brush up on my local geography; pinpoint the quiet spots, check out the rivers and the canals.

6. Kill the bastard by December 31st, 2019.

Simple, really. Right?

Happy New Year, dear diary. Let’s get him.