I’m the kind of person who’s reluctant to switch positions because a cat is on my lap.
Even if my knees are going numb. Or that stabbing shoulder pain starts up.
What makes me think I’m ready to switch anything?
Because, I want to.
Because, I’ve been thinking about it.
Because, thinking about it is half the battle.
The other side of that fight is dedicated to doing what you’re thinking about doing.
So, exercise seems like the best place to begin. Begin, again, that is.
I know I loved it when I did it. It’s an energizing / endorphin / accomplishment trifecta.
Walking the long way around to work grabs me 15 minutes in the morning and 15 in the afternoon. But, that’s only two days a week, and those two are in a row.
On the days I camp out in my home office, my intentions are good.
But, not good enough.
The other day, I optimistically set my alarm for 6:15 am. Plenty of time to treadmill, shower and eat breakfast before wandering into my home work space.
But, I was on Society6 until 11:50 pm uploading art; fooling around with store set-up.
But, the furry fiends woke me up at 4:30 am; yowling like starving banshees.
But, it was chilly; a cup of coffee sounded good.
But, I sat to sip; deciding multitasking email deletion could be accomplished.
But, I clicked an email; clicked a link and clicked another link.
But, when I finally wasn’t interested in the next article; I scrolled to the time screen.
But, it was 7:40 am; and damn.
But, I’m going to do what I used to do; when I wasn’t sure I was going to do something.
If I tell you, then I have to. Even if you don’t care if I do.
Because, someday you might think to ask, “Hey, did you…?”
Because, the tiniest threat of someone pulling that loose string on the hem of my sweater dress that could, in fact, leave me bare when it all unravels; exposed as a non-achiever.
So, I psych myself out.
I can proudly do what I say or embarrassedly concoct another confession.
Who says pride is always a bad thing?
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