I have a mission.

My mission is to do all it takes to earn a large pool of money for the upcoming big sale which will take place in about a month. 

The other day I was flipping through a chick mag when my eyes landed on the events calendar. Most of the events were boring: stars' birthdays, movie previews, and other paparazzi-indulgent days that I frankly have no interest for.

And then I saw it. 

The news being announced in font size 10 print. A sale. THE sale. The Annual Sale That Every Girl Would Die To Participate In Every Year. It was the sale I'd been missing out on each year because I'd exhaust my funds by the time June came around, forgetting that I could have waited for the darned sale to put my moolah to good use.

I checked my calendar. I had a little more than a month.

I checked my purse. I had about fifty cents in the coin pouch, and if I remember correctly, about a dollar in my bank account.

I checked my employment status. Jobless. It had been a tough period for many of us who had been laid off from our jobs late last year. Thanks to the merciless death of many big organisations that led to one of the worst recessions of late, companies big and small were looking to shrink their staff count, and those looking to increase were met with a hundredfold desperate jobseekers (such as yours truly). If I applied for a job matching my diploma qualification, I'd lose to someone with a better skill. If I downgraded myself to an entry level or no-qualification job, I'd lose to someone with a lower qualification and hence a lower salary expectation. To cut the story short, no one wanted to hire me.

But the Material Girl in me was screaming. I had not hit the stores since January, and that was only because I had to purchase new outfits for Chinese New Year. Besides, Mother had been the kind soul who offered to pay for the two outfits. I wanted the rush of being able to purchase as many things as I wanted, with a big budget.

I was sick of recycling my old clothes. They were getting loose and saggy at the sleeve holes, anyway. And it had been ages since I'd really pampered myself. I really really wanted a wardrobe overhaul.

As a result, out of desperation and newfound motivation, I devised the said mission. Currently my net worth was nearly non-existent, so I'd have to start building a fund from scratch.

After a few cigarettes, resourcing, researching, and nearly tearing my hair out, I had a three-page game plan. 

Three-quarter of the ideas are embarrassing, and some of them could end up as total failures, seeing that I need a lot of social backup to make them happen, and clearly, I don't even have much of that to begin with. (Tried and tested: the last time I tried to market an online gift shop on a social networking site, I did a background check and realised that 75% of the people I hang out with ignored my invite. Supportive, eh.) And so, to make the mission successful, I need loads of humility, and loads of luck. We'll see about that.