The ME Diary

Page 1

As always the day started quiet, slow and terribly cold. Rain had made itself very comfortable above Amsterdam the last few weeks.

The small alarm clock hit eight and made the most anoying sound ever heard by mankind. From under the deep red covers came a loud and clearly annoyed grunt followed by a single hand slamming the alarm off the nightstand immidiatly shutting it up.

Do I hate my alarm? Yes I do.
Do I hate waking up? Ow certainly.
Do I want to sleep all winter? You bet ya.
Does my alarm clock knows repeat?........

I'M DOOMED.

And yes, I am my own voice over. It's a diary! So what if it's weird. Like I said, it's a diary after all.

Once again the beeping started this time forcing me to get out of bed and put it off properly. Still stumbling over my own legs I make my way down the stairs from the attic to my bathroom. Like every morning I look like a racoon on meth just freshly scrubbed out of the chimney. I sigh and whipe all my wild tangled dark hair out of my face.

I force a smile. "You look great!" I say to myself.

Well, maybe it's healthy to tell yourself a lie before breakfast. I hope so. Who this "gorgeous morning loving" girl is? Well, thats me. Lisanne Blesing, 19 years old and totally completely single. And yes I am Dutch. Point of this diary? None. Maybe to just spend some time thinking I'm doing something that I will look back on fondly when I'm older. I think it's not gonna work anyway.

Anyway, the basic facts about me are, well, very basic. Another point in this diary, according to science keeping a diary should help getting to your goals. So, here it is;

I step on the scale after my shower that actually took way too long for a girl with barely to no money and claiming she showers not that long at all. I close my eyes and step on it. When I don't hear the little pointer thingy shooting up anymore I carefully open my eyes again peeking at the number.

"58 kilo. You gained a kilo." I say to myself at the same time trying to be one of those persons who have the right to whine about gaining weight because they actually didn't went off their dieet.

As everyone probably has, the weight goal. I also have a 'make new friends', 'find a propper boyfriend' and 'get your life on track' goal but I don't see them going faster then the weight goal. Though you just widnessed how that is going.

I grab a towel and dry off fast in my inni mini bathroom.

That's the thing with a house in Amsterdam, or at least the one I have. I live in one of those small houses above a shop that sells roasted chicken from 6 AM. Don't get me wrong, I love living here in the Kinkerstraat and I have nothing against chickens but you don't want to know how many times my morning has been ruined by opening the window and smelling that stuff on an empty stomache. But I'm off topic, my apartment is smaller then normal but I manage and it has it's good sides. Cleaning is easy. Tho the bills are still a bitch.

I brush my hair, change clothes and while I'm stuffing my face with one of those healthy sandwithes I see the cause of my gained kilo. A pack of chocolate with Nutella. I click my tongue.

As if to give me a feeling of guilt four little paires of eyes follow my every move from the little basket in the corner of my livingroom.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. It's my body." I say to them refraining from switching my sandwitsh for the last peaces of chocolate.

Let me introduce you to those four pares of eyes. My dogs. Now you might think if she's so pore why does she have four dogs? Well, they are Chihuahua's to be fair. They eat with the four of them just a little more then a cheperd's morning bowl. And somehow when I got one I couldn't stop. It was like the chocolate in front of me. One peace turns into at least half a package.