Of Mice And Disappearing Men

It was Eddie Izzard who famously looked at the great quote "The best-laid plans of mice and men aft gang aglay" - or "the best-laid plans of mice and men often go wrong" as it's translated in modernity, and asked the question...
"Exactly what mice plans was Robert Burns thinking of when he wrote that?"

I'm guessing there have been, to date, no mice making plans to lose about nine stone. Except possibly some mice in labs somewhere. That'll mean there have been no mice plans to go swimming, and no mice plans to walk for miles at the crack of dawn.

No - those are uniquely human plans, I'm thinking...
Was all set to go swimming last night. Then I opened the front door...
Now, I know I've said that this is Wales, and if you didn't do things in the pissing-down rain, nobody'd ever go outside, but I have to tell you, I looked at the drizzle, and I felt the nipple-popping chill, and I thought about being fresh out of the apparently fairly cold pool, and trudging home the couple of hundred paces...
And I closed the door and had dinner. Not as calorifically virtuous as swimming, but rather more fun.
And then there was this morning. I was exhausted and bitchy by the time we dragged our asses up the stairs last night, and the thought of getting up at 6.30 again this morning filled me with an all-consuming horror, so I chose the path of weakness again, and turned off my alarm.

"Oi!" said d. "Get up, he's here!"
"Ummmf?" I asked.
Oh. Him. Really? Already?
"Whattime'sit?"
"8.30 - get down here, he's here in a van, probably can't figure out the code, and if he can't figure out the code, he might just leave!"
I rolled into clothes and stumbled downstairs. Sure enough, there was a guy trying to get in through the main doors to our apartment block. I called out the code to him and then he was on his knees.
I should probably mention at this point, the big plan for the day was to finally get our home phone line and our braodband up and running. The phone-wizard twiddled about. Then realised he needed to drill through our external wall and lay new cable. He called in a mate with a drill. Twiddled some more.
"Right," that's me off then," he said eventually.
"Broadband?" we asked.
"Ohhh," he said, looking at his watch. "Dunno nothin' about that, mate," he claimed.
"Told you that when you walked in the door," I told him. Essentially, we had to go a little clientzilla on the guy in order to get him to do what had been agreed. Still, he did it in the end, even though his particular plans for the day ended up being an hour and a half behind schedule.

Re-sult!

Went out for a low-key, calorifically cheap lunch...and ended up with something like seven and a half dinner rolls on the side. Sooo that would be another plan gone to Hell in a mousetrap.
Got back to work, and as d had a little post-lunch doze, I made a decision. When I was done, I was gonna go walking, dammit.

Then I finished.
"I invite you to embrace your inner jammies," murmured d. Annnnd my final plan of the day crumbled into couch-loving, movie-watching, snuggled-down crumbs.

Tomorrow, the plan is to get to the freakin' bottom of my office, dammit, and possibly do Something to help the ailing recovery of my weightloss program.

Yeah, that's the plan...Anyone taking bets?...