With the dawn of the new year, I’ve been thinking a bit about goals. You know, those things that keep you from drowning in your memory foam mattress as you play Round No. 173527 of Scrabulous. I, personally, have been wondering where all of mine went. So I made a little goal shipment chart to track them down.

Age: 7
Goal: To become a circus clown.
Tracking #: 937462
Status: Lost in transit. Parents let me watch “It.”

Age: 13
Goal: To attend Harvard or Stanford.
Tracking #: 463840
Status: Lost in transit. Later faced demise in classes that ended with the suffix “AP.”

Age: 17
Goal: To attend a respectable UC school that didn’t rhyme with “Liverhide.”
Tracking #: 384720
Status: Completed!

Age: 19
Goal: To embrace the glorious universe that is college
Tracking #: 978401
Status: Completed!

Age: 21
Goal: To find a newspaper job
Tracking #: 574326
Status: Took a while, but completed!

Age: 22
Goal: To work at the Los Angeles Times within three years
Tracking #: 438572
Status: In transit indefinitely

Age: 23-25
Goal: To not die or get fired
Tracking #: 736492
Status: Completed!

Age: 25
Goal: To get back to California
Tracking #: 395877
Status: Completed!

Age: 25
Goal: To become The Most Famous Michelle Woo In The World
Tracking #: 283149
Status: Completed!

Age: 26, as in right now
Goal: To, um, limit my Sausage McMuffin intake and, um, not be (that) crazy, and, um, write stuff?
Tracking #: 645328
Status: Hmm…

So yeah, I’m very much in need of some goals. I have a few in mind, but I want to think bigger. Still, I know that before I take one step in any direction, I’ll first need to find a purpose. Sigh. I should get on that.