TRUE CONFESSIONS
1. I have 57 books on my To-Be-Read shelves. Two of those I bought yesterday, even though I had absolutely, positively sworn I would not buy another book until I'd read at least 10 of the ones waiting for me. "Hello, my name is Laura, and I'm a bookaholic."
2. I loathe cooking. Especially in summer.
3. I have gained back five pounds of the 15 I lost last year.
4. I am days, if not weeks, behind in my email.
5. Since running the 5K in May, I haven't done a single run of more than a mile since.
6. I haven't done any writing in the month of July.
And the deepest, darkest confession of all . . .
7. I don't care.
Well, I care. I just don't care enough to fix it. Any of it. (Except the books--I do continue to read, as well as buy, books.)
But everything else takes energy--physical, mental, emotional--to get started. And it's the getting started that I've always had trouble with. Overcoming the inertia of an object at rest always seems more trouble than it's worth.
Except that I know it is worth it. And then I feel guilty. Which is an energy drain in and of itself.
Are you seeing the vicious circle?
So if I'm going to confess publicly, I might as well take shameless advantage of publicity and resolve to jump start the inertia now.
So . . .
By July 31st I will:
1. Do a 30-minute run.
2. Cook something more complex than scrambled eggs.
3. Write. Something. Anything.
See you in a week!
(The exclamation point is an attempt to care.)
2. I loathe cooking. Especially in summer.
3. I have gained back five pounds of the 15 I lost last year.
4. I am days, if not weeks, behind in my email.
5. Since running the 5K in May, I haven't done a single run of more than a mile since.
6. I haven't done any writing in the month of July.
And the deepest, darkest confession of all . . .
7. I don't care.
Well, I care. I just don't care enough to fix it. Any of it. (Except the books--I do continue to read, as well as buy, books.)
But everything else takes energy--physical, mental, emotional--to get started. And it's the getting started that I've always had trouble with. Overcoming the inertia of an object at rest always seems more trouble than it's worth.
Except that I know it is worth it. And then I feel guilty. Which is an energy drain in and of itself.
Are you seeing the vicious circle?
So if I'm going to confess publicly, I might as well take shameless advantage of publicity and resolve to jump start the inertia now.
So . . .
By July 31st I will:
1. Do a 30-minute run.
2. Cook something more complex than scrambled eggs.
3. Write. Something. Anything.
See you in a week!
(The exclamation point is an attempt to care.)