I hate my body. No, this isnt' the usual rant against the fat or wrinkles etc. This is the rant against my body's inability to fight like a woman. I had one hour of kickboxing on Monday and my body still hasn't recovered. I went to Zumba last night. I went through the motions but barely. My muscles had no strength in them and even I, the queen of pushing through pain and fatigue, could not push myself any more. My husband is insisting that I stay home tonight and do nothing.

And I will. Probably. Unless I get a miracle burst of energy right at 6:30.

I am drinking lots. I did not listen to my cravings for lots of fat and salt from McDonalds and got a apple harvest salad from the grocery store deli instead. I'm massaging my tired legs and back. And I've cancelled today's plans to finish painting the cat's bathroom and work on the laundry room cabinets.

I have done some lesson planning and grading and cleaned the kitchen. Life still does go on somewhat even if you are exhausted. And my husband, whether he wants me to rest or not, will insist on having supper tonight. Funny, how that works!