Changing seasons always encourage me to set new goals. Mostly because I rarely fulfil goals per se, so I need to keep working at them. I figure everyone is in the same boat. I’m surprised it isn’t sinking.
One of my main goals is to lose 15 pounds by the time school goes back in this fall.
I hope that with access to fresh local produce, I should have an easier time of it than trying to lose weight during hibernation (and the nights I like to drink hot chocolate containing more chocolate than water).
It’s also the time of the year that I love to swim. While I hate putting on a swimsuit (it’s about as fun as watering the garden while mosquitoes fly up my nose and black flies commit suicide in my eyes), I love exercise that doesn’t make me sweat. I sweat when I brush my hair after showering.
Each year, I swear up a storm that I am going to swim more. And then September comes and it’s all over. I can’t even recall if I had a beach day last year. Sad stuff. Because I live within an hour of the beach. I should be there every week at least. Even when gas is expensive.
But time goes by. Oh, I’ll go next week. Maybe Saturday.
Then Saturday comes and it seems more productive to fart around on the internet for a few hours before crashing on the couch with a cat on your chest.
I think Jack is a bad influence.