In my continuing quest to lose thirty pounds before my wedding in July, I went to the gym yesterday (AKA my parents house) and I think I bruised my ribcage whilst ellipticaling. And of course by "ellipticaling" I mean using the elliptical. I don't even know if this possible but I know my ribcage hurts. Maybe I slept weird.
I was feeling creative today so I went online to find some quick, simple projects and I stumbled upon T-shirt yoga pants, which I've been wanting to try since my friend bragged about how cool the ones she made were. (I get it Lisa, you're very creative.) So I cut up the shirt and looked at the mess I had made, and then decided I lacked the motivation to finish the project. Much like the time I tried to make legging-boots, and got as far as tacking the material to the boot before discovering I should have measured twice and cut once. Now the fiasco is hanging out on the closet floor in the library.
In unrelated news, someone moved in upstairs. Well, I say moved in but I really mean someone moved stuff in upstairs, but that someone doesn't stay here. Ever. I've sort of seen her once, through my kitchen window and the sheer-ish curtain that hangs there. And she banged some piece of furniture against our living room door while hefting it up the stairs. That was nice of her. I told my mum about the whole situation and she asked if the lady was a vampire. I was like, maybe.
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