Your future is just as you've imagined.

Option one:

I wake up one day fat lipped and alone,
my rubber pants full of shame and regret.
A man wearing an Elizabethan ruff comes and
hoses me down every Wednesday while singing
'Bye bye baby' softly under his breath.

Option two.

I become Queen of the Voles.
They worship me and bring me gifts of
rotting fish and back copies of 'Now' magazine.
Apart from having to learn to speak vole and learn
'the vole way'. I am very happy. Especially as the voles
nibble my feet every night and I have saved a fortune
on pedicures.

Option three.

Exactly the same as option two, but Leonardo Di Caprio
in this reality prefers tea over coffee.
And the No 8 bus goes to Granton.

What's your future?