Aside from the fact that I have to wake up at 5.30 am four days a week (do you even know what 5.30am looks like? Didn't think so.); I am so sore and tired there are no words to express how I feel. Let me put it in perspective- I hurt like a tractor-trailer hit me, ran over my body and then backed up on top for good measure. Watching me creep around my apartment trying to move as few body parts as possible-moaning every step of the way-is nothing short of tragic. I'd laugh to keep from crying but it hurts too much.
Quite frankly, the only things that keep me going (besides the aspirin I've been poppin' like green M&Ms) are 1) I know this program works. It's actually my third time 'enlisting' and the results are UNDENIALABLE and 2) the super cute bikini I bought at the end of last season. If my wobbly bootie can't fit into that miniscule piece of fabric come Memorial Day weekend, I'm going to be one sad black girl. You see the vision?