I am not in fact dead. Close, but not quite.
On Sunday and Monday, D tried to kill me. You'd think I'd have succumbed by now.
I was toast on Tuesday. I was barely functioning. Oh, and I had a crazy day at work. One of those 6:30am to 8:30pm kind of days. Good times. I felt better yesterday...slightly. But I had another ridiculous work day. I did manage to get home by 10:00pm. Ugh. All of this added up to exhaustion on top of the exhaustion, and no running. Really, even if I had had time, I don't think I could have.
Today, I ran three miles in the Commons. It was fairly miserable. Creaky. Tired. Out of sorts. Just yuk. Not good times. I am so screwed.