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Chapter One. To Begin With.
Once upon a time I got sold a dream: I would grow up big and strong, marry a blonde (my
mother was convinced of this), have children of our own, and live happily ever after in
a big house, whilst I held down a job as an astronaut. Or a train driver. Or a fireman.
And this wasn't a 'maybe' - something to aspire to - this was my God given right. This is
what was going to happen. All I had to do was wait. Not that I was very good at waiting.
I'm still not very good at waiting! I wanted this idyllic life now, at the tender age of
six - or however old I was. I certainly didn't want to wait until next week or some other
distant point in the future.
I must have told my parents this because they would smile and tell me not to be in such
a rush. "Peter," they would say, "schooldays are the best days of your life."
I beg your pardon? Did you say "schooldays"? You mean the days I spend at school? The days
I spend trudging to and from school in all sorts of weather? The days I spend sitting
them over someone's fence - those days? Those are the best days I'm ever going to have?
Obviously they were mistaken. They had to be. When my parents' eyes glazed over and
they talked fondly of 'schooldays' they must have been recalling the days of their own
distant childhood, days sitting around camp fires outside the school mud hut, marking
bits of slate with chalk whilst village elders told stories of dragons. Their schooldays
were clearly a far cry from the mixture of humiliation, bullying and boredom that I endured.
They had to be. Because if they weren't, for schooldays to be the 'best' days they would
logically have to be followed by 'something worse.'
Then I got older, and things got worse.
Actually, that's not quite true. They didn't get any worse - not really - but they certainly
didn't get much better, and they definitely got more complex.
'Work' turned out to be very similar to 'school' - different bullies, same rules, just as boring.
And whereas I was given money in return for surrendering five days out of seven - more
money than I'd ever dreamed possible - now there was a slew of people queuing up to take
it away from me. What's more, all the things I'd looked forward to buying back when having
a pay cheque seemed like the answer to everything turned out to cost roughly double the biggest
number I could write on a single sheet of paper. And then there were relationships.
Just when I'd got classroom note passing down to a fine art, the game changed completely,
and note passing wasn't going to cut it.
I could go on, but suffice it to say, the initial 'dream' seemed less and less likely.
It was clear that I was never going to be an astronaut. Or a train driver. Or a fireman.
It also seemed unlikely that I would ever live in a big house. Big houses needed big
money. I was on small to medium money. Two bedroom flat money. It wasn't a bad flat - a
little pokey - but it certainly wasn't what I'd been promised. And then on my thirty second
birthday I finally realised there was also a distinct possibility that I might never
ever find 'the blonde'.
This was a serious blow. Without the blonde I might never be married, I might never have
children - and whilst I could probably cope without being married or having kids, or my
blonde actually being a blonde ('female' and 'nice' was more than sufficient) I couldn't
imagine being single for the rest of my days. That was unacceptable, and something had to
be done.
So, for the first time in my life, I actually started to plan, and make lists, and take
control of my own destiny. All the techniques you read in this book are basically an extension
of the skills I had to develop to avoid a life of bachelorhood.
And you'll be pleased to know that I found the blonde. Took me a few more years, considerable
effort on my part, and a somewhat unorthodox approach to dating, but I found her.
And we did marry.
And when she died in my arms three years later I was heartbroken.
It's a funny thing about losing someone you love. After the shock, the first thing you
often feel is guilt. Every cross word, every nasty thought, every lie - they all come back
to haunt you. And amongst the demons that were queuing up to torment me was the realisation
that I wasn't happy. Even when my wife Kate had finally come along, I still wasn't happy.
Of course, there had been happy moments. Quite a lot of moments. And most of them were in
the previous three years, and most of them were down to one person, but they were moments
none the less. I wanted to be happy all the time. Not just occasionally. Not just for
a moment. And for the second time in my life I decided to tackle a problem in the only
way I knew how: by making plans, and lists, and taking control of my own destiny.
Welcome to 'How To Do Everything and Be Happy!' If you're dissatisfied with your life, this
book may be for you. If you want to do something - anything - to increase the amount of happiness
you feel, this book is probably for you. And if you know how to use a pencil, if you own
a diary, if you can make a list, if you're moderately organised, or could be if you had
a good enough reason to be, then this book is definitely for you.
Now then, let me tell you about this dream that I have for you.