Would you believe after yesterdays post, I had a client who’d withdrawn come back and reapply for the job. Not complaining, right? I left the office on a cloud and floated all the way to the pub.

Yes, I know that I’ve got my final weigh in tomorrow but the call of cider and parma was too strong and my legs (and willpower) were too weak.

Naturally, I also had to polish off that KitKat when I got home – it looked lonely, I swear!

It was a tough night, a close friend of mine is suffering from depression and my heart goes out to her. I was so sad that all I could be was a voice over the phone and not a physical shoulder to cry on. Even just to give her a hug would have made such a difference.

I kept chanting the mantra, “just breathe”. I believe that when you’re feeling so out of control and like  you’re drowing in a whirlpool of emotion, if you can just get your breathing under control, you have something.

From there you can start to move on to other things. Baby steps.

Anyway, this morning I get an sms around 6am from Sgt. Burpee saying he’d slept through his alarm and my session had been cancelled could we reschedule to 7:30am instead? After Sr. B and my sleepless night, it was quite welcome to get an extra 20 mins of snuggles and dozing (p.s snuggles is not a metaphor for something else!).

The good news is I’m having a ‘skinny day’ today! 🙂 For the first time, I’m in a reasonably fitted skirt and I feel like I actually have a waist, like, a smaller one than before! This is particularly good seeing as tomorrow is D-day and I should be still rounded out from cider and parma…

Bad news is today’s workout was horrible! Sgt. Burpee definately put his name to good use.

There was a boxing drill from hell:

100 x overhead punches – 5 x burpees

80 x overhead punches – 5 x burpees

60 x ov…. well you get the idea. And this was the last 5 minutes of my workout that was completely focused on upper body.

Can you even imagine how much I wanted to die and/or kill Sgt. B?!

And the icing is, everyone at work giggles when I walk in the office looking like a nuclear beetroot.

Wish me luck for tomorrow, I know I’m going to need it!


p.s Sr. B said I was a little TMI yesterday with my ‘moustache’ comments so I apologise if I offended, please let me know if you need Visine posted out to you for your seared eyeballs (ew).


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