The Story of the Elephant and the Jan Plan

Apparently we think in stories. I'm not sure about that though, my writing would be far better structured if it were so. Still, these words drift around the back of my mind and make themselves known whenever fingertips make it to keyboard.

Unfortunately this isn't a story.

I'm currently attempting to structure the January Plan. 'The Jan Plan'. Rhyme makes it quirky and fun. It's not though, really. When is anyone's Jan Plan fun? It is, in fact, a list of frightening tasks you have no idea how to implement nevermind execute and really only pay heed to out of guilt brought on by the debauchery of the eight-hundredth Ferrero Rocher forced down your throat mere days beforehand. Like many Jan Planners I've made a list. Three actually. '2012 plan', 'Writing' and 'Publishing'. I'm torn between the latter two. Must learn what publishing actually is (as per item one on the list). Must write more. Must update LinkedIn page, e-mail publishers. Must find inspiration. Must then translate to witty, sexy blog.

Night one went badly. Looked at my CV (needed major updating), looked at jobs (didn't understand half the 'candidate requirements'). It's rare I want a drink because I feel worked-up and overwhelmed but this was one such occasion.

At university I had a lecturer who told me not to eat the whole elephant at once. Eating any part of an elephant is an awful idea never mind being encouraged to take advice from a woman who had obviously not only eaten the elephant but professed to know the best method to employ in order to consume him (or her). Still, I chose to consider her words metaphorical. At the time I was whingeing that I couldn't manage my workload. She told me to focus on the wee things. Managable things. So now I'm deciding which bit of the elephant to eat first.

Not long after this mini-meltdown with the CV and the subsequent two glasses of rioja, I picked up a new book. One I'd been meaning to read for a while now and happened to be a £2 Fopp bargain fortuitously-placed on a stack by the shop door on my way home from yet another festive shift from Hell in my waitressing day job. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has turned out to be one of those books that hooked me from the tenth or twelfth sentence and is now responsible for my new blog picture which, with some luck, will propel me calmly into this year as I look for a job as a grown-up.

I think this sentiment could be useful for someone like me who gorges on elephants.