What makes us chronic contemplators when it comes to completing little things we know would be in our best interest?

Is it our laziness? Do other, more significant goals or duties get in our way? Do we need a bigger cheerleading squad? I’d suggest that the worst of us offenders get together to form a Chronic Contemplators Club, but I’m sure we’d never get around to scheduling our first meeting.

When it comes to important tasks for which I have great interest and passion, I’m pretty good at moving into action immediately. It’s all those smaller, less engaging duties that I continue to contemplate doing, without ever taking real action.

Here are the top three issues on my chronic contemplation list:

1. Keep up with a minimal maintenance plan for my car. You know, like change the motor oil and check the air pressure on the tires. I talk a lot about the importance of these tasks, and even put them on “to do” lists. I glance up at the little oil-change sticker on the upper left corner of my windshield until it turns brown and crinkly and falls off. My tires grow bald before I get around to my first rotation. Eight months ago, I traded my 2001 Chevy for a 2008 Chevy so I could get off to a fresh maintenance start. My oil light turned on this morning.

2. Floss my teeth on a regular basis. When the dental hygienist asks me how often I floss my teeth, I say, “Not as often as I should,” which, in the world of dentistry, translates to “Never.” For years, I’ve thought about that clean, spearminty feeling I could experience if I ever put that waxy string between my teeth. I have purchased dozens of little plastic packages of floss and left them all over the house. I’m convinced that flossing is the right thing to do, in honor of all those dental hygienists out there. I just don’t do it.

3. Learn how to dance well enough so as to not embarrass my partner or myself. I’ve been meaning to take lessons for decades. Even without lessons, if I could just go out and give it a try, in time, I would blend in without looking conspicuous or gauche. Everyone can dance. We all have rhythm, right? I want to get out there with the “in-crowd,” get into the groove, put that pouty, superior look on my face. I know I need help to be moderately successful at any form of dance, but I never show up at the heavily mirrored studio.

So, for all of the chronic contemplators out there, I’m setting the date for our first meeting…just as soon as I can get around to it.