I'm sorry.....is this a rash?

The past six weeks have been a real nut twister.  From emergency surgery to a death in the family to trying to build my own business....mama is worn the eff out!

Since having my surgery, I haven't been released to work out which has been harder on me than I ever thought possible.  I NEED to workout now.  It's MY time.  I definitely think it has served as a stress reliever and really just makes me feel better about myself.

Right after surgery, I was told that the only form of working out I was allowed to do was WALK.  Um...no.thank.you.  I'm that lazy bytch that will circle the parking lot for 20 minutes to find a parking spot close to the door.  Then, will run low on fuel, leave to get gas, then go back to said destination and continue the circling ritual.  Parking far away from the door just makes me angry.  #batshytcrazyproblems

So, on Monday night I started giving myself the pep talk.  It was time for me to get my azz back to the gym that I've been paying for the last two months that I haven't even driven by.  I decided that I wanted to start working out at 5:30 am on Tuesday and Thursday so I went ahead and set my alarm for 5am.  When I get up early to workout, I always go to bed dressed so that I ONLY have to brush my teeth and put on shoes to get out the door.

Approximately 5 minutes and one bag of cheetos after setting my alarm, I went ahead and turned that bytch off.  We all know I don't wake up that early.  So, instead, I told myself that I would call the Kid Club when I woke up to try to get Fluffette in for a 9:30 workout.

It's no secret that I love me some Advocare so when a friend told me about a newish product (Slam), I was all in.  I drink spark almost every single day so I was ready to up my game.  As I pulled out of the driveway to drive the 7.2 miles the gym, I chugged the Slam.  Now, from what I understand, Slam is like Spark on Crack.

A couple of minutes later, my insides burned.  It felt like a just took a shot of Patron chilled and dressed and then my back started to hurt.  It became evident that this shyt was eating away at my internal stitches and that I would prolly end up back in the hospital.  #notdramatic

I digress.

Then, out of nowhere, my face started to feel hot so I looked in the mirror.  "wait...what?....is that a.....son of a bytch...that's a muh fuggin rash!"

I felt fine so I decided that a little rash on my money maker face wasn't gonna hold me back from my first official work out in over six weeks.  I continued on to the gym and chugged a bottle of water hoping that would flush out the rash (that's what heals rashes, right?)

By the time I got out of the car at the gym, I had a rash alright.  From head to toe.  I went to bend my wrist and that shyt crackled.  Clearly my skin was swelling up.  Seems par for the course.

I got Fluffette out and still had it in my mind that I would proceed to Turbo Kickboxing.  When I walked through the front door and the receptionist looked at me like I was Rocky from Mask....

I decided it was not in my best interest...nor the best interest of society as a whole....for me to workout.  I turned around and headed out.  That rash took residence on my body for the good part of three hours.

The good news is that shortly thereafter, the Slam kicked in and I cleaned my whole house, cleaned out two closets and organized the guest bedroom that looked similar to this...

The morale of the story?

When life gives you a rash, you get your azz home quick and clean some shyt!!

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Now for some pictures of my baby that's cuter than your baby

Just a girl and her Gorilla

That time we put Fluffette on a leash

The Fluffs

Fluffette stole BoBo's boots then did her best to take care of her best fwend.  

Securing her position as BoBo's future wife with dat azz.  #backthatthangup #shegetitfromhermama