Man it’s Wednesday and I’m ready for it to be Friday lol. Soon enough Rox, soon enough.

Everything is going well. Day by day, I’m getting tighter and tighter. Plus the weirdest thing keeps happening to me at the gym… Many people look at me in disbelief or what I can only describe as awe in a way which is totally NUTS AND WEIRD TO ME… I get all kinds of compliments because I’m really friendly with everyone. So I say hi, I talk. I have a weird stalker but I’ll leave that for another post… So these same folks have literally seen my body transform from Jan to now. And today was so funny because this lady was really agasp when she looked at me and gave me a big smile. And I was like . Man either I’m really fuckin tripping out, or I need to start wearing some more clothes to the gym (or both).

I’m a perfectionist though. And I”m super critical of myself because I expect the best. It’s funny how we can’t always see ourselves the way others see us. I feel amazing. My workouts are kick ass, Erik is tying in my diet which is pushing me further than I probably could have myself. I’m not even really hungry anymore. I’ve been tired. But not debilitating. I know I need to get to bed an hour earlier (and turn off the damn TV). But, I get nervous when I think about the show. Like I start thinking OH MY GOD, what if I come in too lean, what if I carry too much muscle, what if my waist doesn’t look as small as it possibly could (damn I’m tired cause I just accidentally typed cood as could…) in my model pose or side mandatory pose… Mind you, I practice posing for an hour or so a day. I’ve watched Tanji’s video. I’ve recorded myself, I’ve taken pics… I’m fine. But, there’s always that EXTRA that could be done to get everything absolutely perfect. So in other words, I’m turning into a nutcase who needs a life.

So screw it, I’m gonna stop being so damn crazy and go play The Sims 3.

No but seriously… I feel like this most of the time…    And I’m seriously PMS-ing and I almost ALWAYS go crazy in the brain when Aunt Flow comes to visit, so I wish she would hurry the hell up. But here’s the good news… I AM NOT EVEN BLOATED!!! YEAH BABY! 

Ok end of diatribe.


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