I like to write things down, sometimes, in the form of lists, often times, just because I’m a weirdo.
I’m packing to visit my family for 9 days (I hope I survive) and it always starts like this:
A very pretty and laid out list of what I might want to bring with me and pack.
It looks like a lot, but my suitcase isn’t even halfway full.
Here they are:
Little suitcase is my carry on.
Big suitcase is only half full.
That means I’ll probably have to revise my list.
I’m not really very organized, but I like to pretend that writing it down helps me remember everything.
I fell off the treadmill on Saturday at the gym.
(This photo is the G rated one, the first one I took from the other angle showed up my pajamas which is not the look I was going for).
I wish it was a great story that I was running and slid off the treadmill because I was in the zone and not paying attention.
It didn’t happen that way.
I had gotten off, went to get a towel and some cleanser to wipe it down, was standing on it, had finished wiping it off, was grabbing my water and my phone, and although I thought I was stepping onto the floor, I missed and hit the end of the treadmill and got a rug burn THROUGH MY PANTS.
Nobody stopped to help, I was embarrassed.
And in case you wanted to know what I look like at this exact moment, here yo go:
Wet hair, pajamas, and my lack of eyebrows, or my half-brows.
That’s what I plan on calling them from now on.