My life’s mantra seems to be “How hard can it be?”  When people would tell me how difficult cross stitching would be, I would think to myself “How hard can it be?” and just start doing it.  Same thing with crochet, sewing, operating a computer (back in the day when the average person was still frightened of them!), designing a web site, homeschooling, and so on.  But occasionally I do think I’ve managed to bite off more than I can chew!!

Case in point:  I glibly agreed to make a Power Point presentation for our 4-H Club to be shown at Achievement Night next month.  Somewhere, looping like a midi-file in the back of my mind I could hear my mantra playing: “How hard can it be?”  So, now I have roughly 1,000 photos to sort through, organize into logical sequence, and add “transitions” and music to.  Honestly, I don’t think it’s going to be all that difficult to figure out how to create the power point itself, it’s just the time-consuming part that I think is bogging me down.

And then there is the music.  Nobody has given me any suggestions as to what sort of music might be appropriate for this presentation.  I warned them that if I had to come up with something on my own, it could well be Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd!  They said they trusted me.  Hmmm. . . . that’s not good!  As I type this, I’m listening to a playlist including (but not limited to) bands like Oasis, Staind, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Finger Eleven, Evanescence, The Goo Goo Dolls and Dishwalla.  I suspect there’s not a song on my iPod that would be appropriate for a 4-H presentation!  But I digress . . .

Another example:  losing weight.  Seriously, how hard can THAT be??  Well, other than the expected battles of willpower and bouts with temptation, it shouldn’t be that tough.  Except for the whole exercise thing.  I loathe exercise.  When I was younger, I used to pretend I loved it. But somehow, since turning 40, I just don’t feel the need to make excuses for myself, or to pretend to be something I’m not.  Yet, I really want to lose weight, so, the dreaded exercise process must commence.  Well, it’s been colder than a well-digger’s rear in the Yukon here for the past several weeks, so, the one exercise I don’t mind all that much, walking, has been out of the question.  Yes, I know my 70-something neighbor walks his hound dog, Zebulon, every day, rain, shine or snow.  He obviously has a much better attitude than I.  But, since I have a (very dusty) treadmill, I still have no excuse, cold or not.

Now, I know from many, many years of experience that if I actually have any hope at all of working out, it’s gonna have to be first thing in the morning.  Herein lies the next rub:  I hate mornings even more than I hate exercise!  But, doggonit, I am determined.  So, I have been dragging my very unwilling corpse out of the bed every morning around 6:30 a.m.  Really.  I know that those of you who know me even a little will find that difficult to believe.  Last week was terrible!  I felt like I was dragging myself through thick sludge.  It wasn’t so much that the actual walking was difficult, it was convincing myself to DO IT.  But, do it I did, and I was always proud of myself when I was done.

This week has been better.  I am not so mentally resistant to the process, although I still hate the whole early morning part of the deal.  So far, the only major obstacle I’ve had to overcome with the treadmill this week has been Pippin, my 9 month old kitten.  He always follows me around the house, everywhere I go.  So, it only made sense to him that if I was going to walk on the treadmill, so should he.  And that is where the trouble began.  First, he thought it would be great fun to try to jump up and grab the cord of my iPod while I was walking.  He figured out pretty fas that I was vehemently opposed to that game.  So, for a day or two he sat contentedly in the magazine basket beside the treadmill and watched me.  I am pretty sure he thought I was nuts.

Yesterday, though, Pippin decided it was time to up his participation level.  He jumped right on the treadmill with me!  While I was trying to figure out whether I should turn it off, try to grab him, or try to jump off myself, he simply shot through my legs and off the back!  I stepped on one of his paws as he flew by.  It was all over within a split second, and then he took off like a maniac as soon as he hit the carpet with all fours.  Today he sat at a healthy distance and watched me with one eye.  Poor kitten!

So, I think my cat and I may both survive this new exercise routine, and somehow I will manage to get this power point thing done, too. I mean, really, how hard can it be? 😉

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