Not mentioned in this post: the fact that I have the hiccups.

Tonight I was going to finish work, go to the gym for my usual 42 minutes, come home and have an early night. There's a protest to attend tomorrow, and it starts at noon. NOON! I'm usually just doing the last of my sleeping then, so that means an alarm, and going "ergh" and arguing with myself that Chinese investors can have the damn forest, I wanna sleep in, and eventually getting up in time to get a terrible park, miss the first 10 minutes and not have anything for lunch, since I have to be at work a half hour after it's scheduled to finish. But I suspect it will run over time. Such things usually do.

Alas, it was not to be. Meagan and I spent an hour and a half at maccas, it still took me 42 minutes to watch an episode of Buffy at the gym, and my plan to write a list of things that need doing in the next two days got sidelines when I started, um, actually doing them.

So I'm torn over whether it's a good thing or a bad thing.

I didn't really get much of anything done though; a vague shuffling around of the mess in my room revealed a black lace top that I bought at kmart about a year ago for $6 but never wore - it had a fairly high neckline and long sleeves, but they're gone now.

I think I prefer deconstructing clothes to the actual making-them-from-scratch thing, probably mainly because that involves tricky seams, and an always-surprisingly-large amount of fabric. This I did most of the chopping in the bathroom, cause that's where the mirror is, and I just folded it over and sewed it down at the edges. It's the top half of what I'll be wearing Saturday night - the bottom half is still yet to be decided.

And no, the room's not really any cleaner.