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…just not to posting! Haha sorry to any of my followers who have been wondering. Yesterday, I did Shred It with Weights Level 2! So proud of myself for getting through this daunting workout! There were some crazy moves with the kettle bell and a few times where I changed to my hand weights (from the kettlebell), but all in all, it was a great workout.
The biggest, and I guess scariest, part of the workout comes right after the warm up where you are literally rocketing yourself from laying on the ground to standing with the weight, without using your hands. At first I just thought, OHHH hell no, but the second I actually did it, I was excited to keep going!
You shouldn’t be allowed to walk in and sit one chair away. You shouldn’t be allowed to smile at me and turn your head the way you did when I interrupted your question at the bar. You shouldn’t have been allowed to have such an interesting name. It wasn’t fair that you told me you had seen me before. That I was the most beautiful girl you’d ever laid eyes on. I wanted your lips on mine
What really wasn’t fair, is that, three minutes in, you said, “Can I have your number, I’m just going to need to see you again and if you have to leave, I will kick myself forever if I can’t get in contact with you.”
Three. Minutes. In.
Your honesty is beautiful like your eyes that you called a “milky, mucus-y, green-brown.” But I’ve taken to staring at them, gazing into them for a while. The past five days are right there. And they’re on your lips.
I rode the red line about 7500 times last year. Everyone told me how dangerous it was.
Oh my god, Kayleigh, how can you ride that train ev-er-e-day? Oh my god you’re going to get (insert offense to my person here- raped, molested, robbed, killed..ect.)
And here I am. I have literally ridden the green line 16 times, round-trip and I get my wallet stolen from my purse. Oh. Goodie.
I wish I wish I wish i could be really furious. I wish I could. But. Ugh.
I just hope the person who stole my shit really needed help. not like the punk-ass 8th grader who HAD and Iphone in his hand and still tried to snatch mine one time on the 15. Or like the group of girls I watched pull various pieces of merch from under their jackets on the smae bus while bragging that if they just stole their lunches from the convenience store, they’d be able to save enough money to”buy that gucci.”
Just. Just. Don’t let the person who stole my stuff be an asshole who really lives by no means less than myself. Who, if they tried to withdraw some absurd amount of money from my account and were declined, wouldn’t go, “What?”
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