Dear diary

It’s weird, having a complete blank (paper) diary in front of me. Symbolic too. The old one has followed me through last year (it has even been in London with me, laying beside me when taking THE decision), like a true and faithful friend. Always willing to listen, and never judging. That’s how a friend should be. And how strange to suddenly leave it in a drawer, because there isn’t space for more words. The new one has another colour which I have to get used to a bit, but the same friendly face on the cover. How to start on this blank page eagerly waiting to be written on.

But suddenly I knew:

And so I made a major decision.
I had to make sure that next year…
I wouldn’t end up shit-faced and listening to sad FM…
easy-listening for the over-thirties.
I decided to take control of my life…
and start a diary…
to tell the truth about me…
the whole truth.
Resolution number one– ohh–
obviously will lose twenty pounds.
Number two…
always put last night’s panties in the laundrybasket.
Equally important…
will find nice sensible boyfriend to go out with…
and not continue to form romantic attachments…
to any of the following…
alcoholics, workaholics, commitment-phobics…
peeping toms,megalomaniacs…
emotional fuckwits, or perverts.
And especially will not fantasize…
about a particular person who embodies all these things…

I couldn’t have said it better myself, thanks B. . 2006 – has now officially started. I should be asleep at this hour, but I am so very awake. About 7 hours from now I’m handing in my resignation.