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It's All About Planning
Yesterday I spent working with son #2 finishing
up a long-term assignment that was due this morning. Admittedly, I was
frustrated because mid-week last week I learned that he was not as close
to getting done as he led me to believe. I can't really fault him as this
was by in large the biggest project he's had assigned to date that relies
mostly upon autonomy. Gah! I hated long-term assignments in school and
still appear to hate them. I just got a notice from the state franchise
tax board saying they needed our income tax from 2005 by the end of the
month. I got that early last week. Have I even started pawing through
the three boxes with all the stuff I need to do it? No. I tend to wait
until the last minute and while that's always worked for me, I'm not so
sure I like the panic I feel and how my focus will hone in so much on
the project du jour that all else goes to hell in a hand basket when I'm
finally down to the wire attempting to meet my deadline.
 I
think many of the problems I've had with this last stint of getting back
on the wagon and shedding those pounds that have crept up is that I keep
putting off the inevitable. I do have a goal
for this go-round, but I find myself coming up with excuses. For instance,
yesterday my excuse was my son needed me. Yeah, for the entire day? And
what was I doing when he was taking a brief break outside playing catch
to gear up for baseball season? Was I on the treadmill? Was I bouncing
around on the core ball? Was I dusting off and getting serious with the
"Monster"? Nope, I was piddling around. Well, I was working
on his project but by all rights I should have been getting in some exercise.
Clearly it takes planning and then a swift kick in the rear. I want this
weight off for a number of reasons. I won't go into them here now, but
I do have my reasons and mostly for vanity purpose. There, I said it.
But I also hate the feeling of sitting down and feeling my upper leg rub
against my inner knee or that pouch where a semi-flat abdomen used to
lie a year ago now juts out and baubles back over the panties. Ugh! I
hated it before and now I hate it even worse. It makes my skin crawl just
thinking about it.
I'm not under doctor's care any longer. My doc retired and the other one
is too far to go to and too expensive. But at least they held me accountable.
I've done the WW gig before and really, I can't handle it. It's a complete
waste of money from my stance (I'm not knocking it, just saying for me
with my experience, I've found it just doesn't work the way I need it
to). But geez, I do need to be held accountable.
Yeah. And I suppose I need someone to come in and remind me to clean my
room. Gee, am I a grown adult here or what? :P
So tell me, what do you know
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