Mountains & Mole Hills

Did you know that if you ignore a mole hill long enough, the next time you look at it, it will be a mountain?

I always shake my head in disbelief when people claim to be blindsided by something they must have seen coming. Like the people who gamble away their paycheck every week and wonder why they have to file for bankruptcy. Didn't they see that coming? Couldn't they have stopped it somewhere along the way?

And what about those occasional news stories of women birthing a baby on a city bus or public bathroom -- and not realizing until that very moment that they were ever pregnant. Really? Seriously? Did they not see the signs -- any signs?

I suppose it could happen.

What about the guy who opened the freezer door in the garage refrigerator and saw it had become a solid, completely solid, block of ice? Didn't he notice at some point that it was too frosty? Didn't his wife see the ice buildup on the sides? No, he didn't. And no, I didn't either.

So he's chipping away at it now and possibly cursing over something we might possibly have prevented if we paid attention to the signs. But quite honestly, didn't look for them. We never use the freezer part of that old fridge. So yes, we were surprised. But no harm done -- except for loss of an evening addressing it.

What about the woman who stepped on the scale one dreadful Monday morning and realized she hadn't seen numbers that big in 13 years? Didn't she see that coming? Didn't she feel it? Was she not paying attention to her frequency flavor miles at King Cone?

Or was she just ignoring the signs?

Yes, my mole hill has become a mountain!

Sure I've seen the signs for years. I could have turned down the right road and found my way back home. But instead, chose Easy Street, driving along with no cares, no worries and definitely no discipline. Even if there was a detour for much-needed construction or maintenance, I always found myself back on that street. There have been plenty of times my GPS has chirped and "recalculated," urging me to get on the right path, but I've ignored it. My way is better.

Yeah, right.

Now I'm faced with a huge block of ice and I've got to start chipping away at it. Something tells me this is going to take a lot of evenings... and days and weekends to address.

I can see the sign. It says "Rough road ahead." Am I ready for that?

If I want to shrink this mountain down to a mole hill -- or even a reasonably sized mound, I don't think I have a choice. I need to switch gears and move forward.

The good news is that if the journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step, I've got my pedometer!