And I hate Jillian Michaels right back.

Tonight, while waiting for Matt to get home from his weekend at the spa, I decided I had enough time to shred before he came home. And in a flash of genius I decided that I was ready for level 2. I was NOT ready for level 2. I am writing this from beyond the grave.

Of course I didn't actually die, but I felt like I might. Look how red my face was!

And if you're wondering if I'm using this post to announce to the world that I am pregnant, I am not. I am not pregnant, unless you can be pregnant with hot dogs and cupcakes and wine.

Anyway, the shred was anything but an enjoyable experience, and I again feel like I may vomit. This is my "Stay the hell away from me, Jillian Michaels, or I'll hurt you in a knife fight" look.

I think I'll be sticking with level 1 for a bit longer.