I HATE FATE

Well, that's a strong word. But isn't just my luck that when I'm trying to blog responsibly, I start falling apart? Because now it's not just my knee (which has turned into a quarter sized little bruise, and nothing more), but now I have no voice, no lung capacity for breathing longer than five seconds without erupting into a barking cough, and I'm hacking up... all kinds of stuff that I won't describe for the benefit of those with sensitive ears. It's pretty gross, trust me.

But I'm fighting it.... I really am! I still got down on the floor this morning and did fifteen minutes of stretching and this fun little routine you do with a bouncy ball and a four year old, and then I collapsed and went back to bed for two hours! (Thanks, Roy!) I am convinced that Satan is trying to take me down mentally by using my body against me, making me think that I'm too out of shape to start getting into shape, but I won't let him win. Nasty little devil.

No applause, just send Kleenex.

FIFTEEN MINUTES.... stretching, etc.