I'm feeling the need for some real motivation. I have tried to put on the swimsuit, make lists, think of the disappointment of my husband...all of it just makes me feel bad. Not motivated to move.
I have a love-hate relationship with my new leather reclining loveseat. It is really comfortable, it's beautiful, and it fits my style as well as the space limitations in our living room. It beckons me in the morning after my husband leaves for work to come wrap up in the electric blanket and sip my coffee in luxurious comfort. I succumb. Pulled out of my cocoon only by the need for another cup of coffee, this is where I have my quiet time, read the news online, and catch up on Facebook. I turn on the news at 7, and begrudgingly take my dog for his walk no later than 8. I always feel glad when I get back. But then that beautifully soft leather begins its seduction again. I wonder if it has time travel capabilities, as I often find I have lost hours while sitting in this loveseat. It is not a good motivator. Neither is it's side-kick, the electric blanket. How cozy the two of you make me!
So now you see my problem. I cannot get rid of my fabulous furniture. Alas, what is to become of me if I continue to slob away in the seat of sloth? I have an idea, and trust me, it's not pretty. I am contemplating using the loveseat as some sort of reward, but as with anything, I need accountability. No, you cannot help me here. I will lie to you. I will. As frustrating as it is, I must increase my self-discipline with nothing more than...self discipline. Ironic, I know. And not very fair, I must say. Surely my ability to make spreadsheets would help me here, or my gardening skills, or even my penchant for strange humor, but no. It seems I am going to be forced to dig deep (gardening skills ARE helpful!), and make myself get off this loveseat. At least before my husband gets home.