I simply don’t want to.

For very technical reasons (and with extensive apologies from our technocrats), we are reposting!I know should.  I know I should go up there, to that room, to that corner.  I simply don’t want to.It’s not just any room in the house.  No, this is a special room.  It’s really quite lovely.  The sun comes in and warms it. The cats love it.  There’s a comfy sofa and lots of books.It has historical significance as it’s the room from which the family creatively made and hung a Red Cross sign out the windows in 1863, thus saving this old house from being burned down along with so much of Bluffton.So why do I resist going there?Two words:  Stationary Bicycle.It sits there and glares at me from its space in the corner. I have to walk around it to get to the other rooms.  We both know I should be using it.  It’s too big to put in a closet; too heavy for me to haul downstairs and quietly dispose of.Do not tell me that if I turn on the television while I’m pedaling that time will fly by and I will develop muscles I never knew I had.  Tried that.Do not tell me to get a good book, pedal away and time will fly by, etc. etc.  Done that, too.Do not tell me that I should just grin and bear it.  That it’s good for me.  That I’ll feel so much better when I’ve finished.  I don’t need to hear that.  I feel sufficiently guilty as it is.But didn’t I say that the room has a comfy sofa, books and cats?I think I’ll go up there after all and enjoy those things.  That silly bicycle has spent most of its life un-attended, un-sat-upon and un-pedaled.  What’s one more day? Devil machine image thanks to thenounproject.com