Monday 5 April 1999

Well, I seem to be holding up pretty well...

Of course, I've only been awake for an hour or so...

Later that same day...

Urge to kill... rising...

This website started off on the 26 of March as a sort of online diary. I thought I might make a better go of it than the paper versions from my childhood. When I look back on these sincere attempts, they all seem to have one thing in common: July 14th consisted of my enthusiastic, three page commentary on starting a diary, how great it was going to be and how faithfully I was going to keep it up. And of course, September 13th, where I document the amount of time I left the Recital Performance processing on my hair. (Permanent Hair Colourant if you cannae figure out what I'm on about.) And judging by the handwriting, I could have a successful career as a doctor.

Why am I giving up smoking? Because I can.

Despite all the excuses and justifications to continue smoking, which I can launch loudly at a moment's notice... I have to hang on to my 'Because I can' philosophy. And ignore that pesky 'Live your life be free' one. Actually it's a Belinda Carlisle song. Just what I need floating around my head on this trying day... Damn. There it goes again. "Liiive your liiife, be freeeeeee"

Another of my philosophies is 'You can sleep when you're dead'. Well, it's not really a philosophy, is it? But it sounds good when you need to justify driving to Paihia at 4 am for no reason. (We made it as far as Waihi) Unfortunately, it doesn't work quite as well as inspiration for me when it comes to getting out of bed early. Or on time.

So last night, twenty minutes to midnight, final cigarette and matching coffee. My flatmate and I stood out on our wee balcony and gazed up at the Lion Kings; which is what we call stars these days. We have decided we could never go back to living in a single storey dwelling again. Come to think of it, my flatmate only started smoking since we moved in to our flat. I'm quite a stressful person to live with, apparrently.

I'm at work as I type this and I'm finding it hard to focus on anything. And it's only day one, good grief! Tuesday is bound to be a lot harder and Wednesday won't be a picnic. I'm dreading Wednesday actually. I keep telling myself if I can make it past the first two weeks, and stay the hell away from my other vices I'll be fine. Of course, so I've heard, the screaming temper tantrums and the constant-humming-of-TV-sitcom-themes-under-my-breath won't be much fun for the peeps around me... That's why I'm glad I'm so self-centred and don't care.

Urge to kill... falling... rising....