There is no getting out of going, kind of a requirement of being a sibling. Plus, Christine, the bride, wants me to be a bridesmaid. At least the bridesmaid dresses are pretty, I picture the pale blue dress hanging in my closet. I take a sip of my drink as I walk into the living room. Our condo has an amazing view of the Rockies from the picture window in the living room. Sawyer has her mat laid out in a patch of sunlight in our living room and is going through a series of yoga poses. I sit on the sofa, waiting for her to finish.
Is it only me or is this paragraph just all over the place?