poo

I feel like poo. This weekend has not been a good one.

My sister's favorite dog, her third child, died. I feel awful for her. It was so dramatic, I can't even imagine. I want to call her but the time difference thing again. From what I've gathered, someone that was doing an estimate at her house didn't close the gate and the dog got out. They found the dog drowned in a frozen lake shortly thereafter. Terrible.

Yago and I were going to go out to dinner last night. Yago was starving but took Sam to go stay at a friend's house and on his way home got in an accident. No one was hurt but his car is in bad, bad shape.

I worked out for the fifth day in a row on Friday and knew it was too much but ran three miles anyway. It felt awful the whole time I was fighting myself to not stop the treadmill. Now I just spit some green-yellowish stuff and my chest is killing me. I brought it on myself. I ran 4 miles Thursday and felt worn out on Friday but I wanted to earn enough calories to go out to dinner. Damn diet program. I'm sure that weakened my immune system and is why I'm sick.

I can't stop thinking about poor Mistress of MooMoo. Maybe I'll call and wake her up.