31st December, 2018
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.