Before the frogs – there were tadpoles. Lots and lots of tadpoles. For those of you who have ever seen frogs eggs, then you’ll know that when frog have eggs or lay eggs, or whatever the term is for this – frogs definitely hedge their bets. It’s not like the 3 or 5 eggs you may have spied on occasion in birds nest – it’s hundreds. Hundreds and hundreds – literally thousands of eggs that float on the top of the water waiting to hatch. And they do just that – hatch and the tiny tadpole is set free to swim and then only days later to crawl out of its modern primordial ooze onto the glorious green grass and probably then directly into your kitchen where your mom will try to hurl or swat it back to nature,or its maker, with what ever implement of swatting that is closest at hand. This does not preclude the use of a hammer – I wish I had pictures.

So I begin – condiment free, no napkins of bibs – waiting to eat several frogs. I have my own – the basement – the list – the clutter. You may have yours. Nut when time is of the essence and other goals or more specifically goal lines seem to be behind those frogs – well what do I want to do? Live in tadpole city? Hurl with mom? Or jump in – clear out – cut down – deforest my basement? I opt for the latter.

Simply said. Deep breaths – thoughts of being on track – focus – focus – focus. Reminders of that the reward exceeds the efforts. Endorphins of completion. The insta pop of the message “Good Job!” which out of no where comes into my mind hours after this good job was signed, sealed, and delivered.

So – I am taking the step to commitment – and without the obvious pun – I am hoping to reveal behind my curtain of frogs the hopes and dreams and desires that lay waiting for me.

Two schools of thought – in two sentences.

Getting ready to get ready
VS
Eat That Frog

Both appropriate – work needs to get done. The idea that if I am always looking to have things perfect before taking the plunge into to egg laden waters, then I’ll never get in the swim. Sure, I’ll have some proverbial frogs eggs clinging to me for a few seconds, but surely after some flailing, and erratic moves I’ll free myself from those slimy eggies and get into as graceful freestyle as I can maneuver.

Watch this space!