Why is it that I choose to spend days, weeks and, sometimes, months procrastinating something that only takes 5 minutes to actually do?
Yesterday morning, I brought some winter things to the garage. I’d boxed them up a few weeks ago but hadn’t had the time — or made the time — to store them until this weekend. The garage, only 100 or so yards from my back door, seemed like a grueling several-mile-long hike until I actually stepped outside and walked down the driveway. That part took half a minute. It took another minute to unlock and open the door. It took 2 more minutes to run back to my house and get the box I wanted to put away. After another minute or so, I was back in my house marveling that the chore was so quick and painless.
All too often, the tasks that seem the toughest are really a cinch. Of course, I could say that about a lot of things.