1. I had bags under my eyes. If I was in WHSmith’s I’d have charged myself a penny for each of them.

2. I needed a change.

A change of pace, a change of location… and really, I just needed some change for the pasta I’d decided to buy. Being frightened of my own reflection spurred me into action. So of course I took a trip down the stationery aisle.

When in doubt – write it out! I went looking for something to motivate me. Something which I could use to catalyst me to get up each morning and think – ah, that’s what I need to do today.

The bastards had nothing except post-it notes and I could hardly write my goals down on those. For a start I was likely to get papercuts. Then I’d have bits of paper stuck to my bedroom walls. And then they’d fall on the floor. And then I’d sweep them under my bed and forget all about them. It simply wasn’t do-able.

So I made the decision to take a trip into Ryman’s; that heavenly place where I can get lost looking at pens that come in so many different colours, I could probably taste the rainbow, I would have almost certainly been able to draw it. And then I found it. The mecca of all list making – the pin board! But wait for it, it also had a white board attached. Ignenious! As soon as I saw it, I knew it was the one. I could both pin and write – draw if I wanted to, all my goals and plans for the rest of my life. Or at least until I got bored.

My plan was already starting to come together. I’d be motivated in no time! But hold on a minute. I just had a board. I needed something to write with. I needed pins to stick my bits of crap up with. Otherwise my board would remain empty and listless and I’d be stuck in demotivation mode FOREVER. Or until someone was kind enough to lend me a pen.

So I browsed the store and I found some funky metallic pins that come in lots of special colours. And then I found some white board markers to, you know, write with. I could now spice up my goals with a splash of green, blue, black or red! Not only would my goals be out there for the world to see – but they’d be pretty too.

I went up to the till with my purchases. I was smiling thinking about all the things I was going to accomplish. And then the cashier told me the total.

£15.27!

Just for a stupid bit of wood, some pins and some bloody pens?!

Well, I knew what my first goal would be – to find a new job to pay for this load of over-priced tat.

As soon as I got home, I got to work on my goals. First I needed a name. I needed something which showed I was in control, that I’d thought this through.

I chose “Plan B” as my title.

Clearly because Plan A hadn’t been working for some time, aka my entire life. Plan A sucked. Plan A hadn’t gotten me anything except a job I hated which paid barely enough to cover the cost of making a Plan B.

Finding a new job is easy though. I can find lots of new jobs, they’re everywhere – but could I secure one? That’s the hard part, so my first goal looked this:

Find a new job, do not act like a twat in interview – get said job.

The not acting a twat part was very important. I always act like a twat during interviews. I usually say the first thing that comes to mind as they ask me questions.

Them: Why do you want this job?

Me: Because it was either this or prison.

I didn’t get that job.

My second goal was thusly:

Save lots of money from new job.

My hope is to secure a job at a bank so that I can literally save money FROM work. It’s not stealing if I just save it right?

My third goal went something like this:

Put moolah towards new flat.

That isn’t me saying I’m going to point a cow towards my new flat, that’s me saying I need to put money towards the renting of a new place, a nicer, more expensive place. Now, there’s nothing wrong with my current place really, except the location, the town, it’s people and the fact there’s five of us living under one roof. Less is more. Unless of course we’re talking chocolate, in which case, more is moreish.

My fourth goal stated the following:

Complete Jessica novel.

Because it’s almost done. Really. I just can’t figure out the ending. I suck at endings. I hate saying goodbye. And I can’t write the never-ending story, that’s already been done.

My fifth goal was more of an on-going thing:

Travel baby – Hounslow hightstreet doesn’t count.

My weekends usually consist of travelling into town, puchasing a beverage (today was a Mars milkshake from McDonald’s) buying some stuff (pasta, my board etc) and then going home. It’s hardly what you’d call exciting (or glamorous) and doesn’t really make for very good Monday morning conversation at work the following week. I need to get out there and explore Feltham maybe. If I’m feeling daring.

By this point, I was running out of stuff to set my sights on. New job, check. New house, check. Lot’s of money – check. If I had all that, what else did I need?! Ah, my tattoo. The one I’d been promising to get for months now. I’d yet to find a suitable location for it. Each place I’d considered so far seemed either too trashy or simply wrong.

Hence how my sixth goal ended up being:

Find a suitable location on body for tattoo.

Preferably somewhere I can forget all about when I’m older when I regret the damned thing. Perhaps I should have used this space instead to actually figure out what I want first, rather than where it’s going to go? I always do things backwards.

At this rate, I was going to be living the perfect life in no time. The trouble is, I still had some space to fill.So my last goal was more of a statement. It read:

Keep dancing bitches.

I think there’s a three minute video of me dancing around in a drunken state from last night somewhere. It seemed fun at the time. I think it’s a good ethos to live by. Dance like no body is watching.

Well yeah, except for the one holding the camera. I hope that never gets out.

And that’s been my Saturday so far, productive, no? I’m sure in the coming weeks my goals would have been mysteriously wiped away and replaced with more sensible things like a shopping list: milk, eggs, bread. And don’t forget the bacon!

And if all else fails, there’s always Plan C.