Let Me Just Say I Am Pissed..

I woke up this morning, not feeling like working out but reluctantly did so anyway. I slathered on more Preparation H and wrapped my stomach with my stomach band, but this time I put the band directly on my skin. Not on top of my tank. I then put on my usual sauna suit top and sweat shirt.

It was hella uncomfortable because the band was slipping and sliding all over my wet and slick skin. And the creamy white shit was everywhere. It was very messy. It wouldn't stay put and it was wrecking my nerves.

And, mind you, while I am working out I am not drinking any water. And I didn't drink any water when I woke up this morning either because I was scared I would bloat.
So I am essentially dehydrating myself again for this weigh-in because also took another fucking laxative.

Oh, and get this. The Prep H did not burn. My skin did not look or feel any different either. I think it was a waste.

Aaaaaaaand theeeeeen guess what happened? I didn't hear from my recruiter. I felt deep down like something was wrong. So I called him. And do you know what he told me?? He said he was doing training in OXFORD FUCKING MISSISSIPPI!!!

I ASKED this man DAYS ago if he would be able to take me to my final weigh-in (because otherwise I would make my own arrangements) and he said YES, he would be able to, knowing damn well he had training! He said he thought he would have been back in town by now.
WHAT?!?
And who the HELL has training at the start of a new month?! Your ass needs to be in that fucking office recruiting next months quota, damnit!
Uuuuuugh! I HATE having to depend on people. I HATE not having my damn car. And I hate, hate, HATE this.

I did ALL that uncomfortable pre-weigh-in shit for nothing. Fuck!

My recruiter said that he would get me tomorrow for my weigh-in. Well guess what?
I don't wanna do it. I don't. I am pissed, sulking, and defeated and I don't wanna do another damned uncomfortable weigh-in before I ship out in THIRTEEN DAYS.
I just don't.
So there!
And the weight I am now is the weight I will be when I ship out and there is nothing that can be done. I am within the requirements so what more do they want from me??

Ugh. Fuck this.
I'm going to go eat. I'm fucking starving.
Mel Gibson rant over.
Shit.



~Sailor Taylor