Yesterday I was about ready to go into a coma. After the last few days of visiting the gym twice a day for the hardcore classes, I was all set to collapse in last nights dance class. After my mission impossible in the studio, I went off to crawl on the treadmill for another 15 mins. Here was the problem: the machine I chose to die on happened to face a window. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but at 630pm the thing had turned into a mirror reflecting the actual mirror on the wall behind me giving me a charming view of my extraneous deriair. Needless to say, the booty ring back at me was something out of the dodgiest horror nightmares that frighten children and pets alike. - I wondered if anyone caught me pulling faces at myself?

In monumentous agony I staggered home to fall in to bed.

Today, my work shirt feels slightly looser. Am I wishful thinking? Or delirious on pain?

Still hating on everything.