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Now, here at the Phat Cave, the humble abode of Dr. No and myself, the past week or so has not been kind. Forced to put up with a variety of insults, you can imagine my apprehension upon waking up this morning and having the distinct feeling that Something Wasn�t Right. I make no claims to be psychic, but do have quite the killer intuition, and after the events of late in the lives of myself and those around me, I doubt you�ll think less of me for wanting to roll the hell back over and sleep until tomorrow.

I almost wish I had.

The day came and went with more than a few unpleasant developments, so when 7pm came around and it finally cooled off outside, I was actually really looking forward to my 3 mile run with my friend Rave. A chance to get out of the house, release some pent-up energy, and work off the pound or so of complex carbs that I�d ingested in the past 24 hours.

I feel I should add that since I started this health-kick/physical activity spree nearly two months ago, I�ve developed something of a sore knee/hip combo that I can�t quite pinpoint the cause of. I�ve switched shoes, taken days off, changed my stride�all to no effect. My stupid right hip and knee continue to plague me with frequent and painful reminders of their existence and proximity to my person.

In any event, I ignored the pain tonight in favor of running off the excess calories I�ve been indulging in.

A mile and a half into the run, it happened. I�m still not quite sure what caused this particular Exxon Valdez, but I took a spill. A spectacularly executed rolling of the right ankle which precipitated (thanks, I think, to my experience as an indoor volleyball player) a bypassing of the knee land, directly to a fall onto my hands, and then hard onto my shoulder, which, after my wrists, received the brunt of my weight.

Rave gave a brief shriek of concern, and I lay there in a bit of a daze, taking inventory of my fingers, head, toes and everything in between. After determining that I hadn�t landed flat on my face, nor was bleeding profusely from any one spot, that bitch Rave totally laughed at me.

Granted, it could have been a lot worse. I could have been wearing heels and a skirt and been walking down 3rd Street Promenade and totally taken a Miss Congeniality header in broad daylight. As it was, it was dark, Rave was the only one who actually saw me fall, and I didn�t end up with my skirt over my head or a broken anything.

But still. I don�t have a job, I had a major freak-out breakdown on Saturday (which I tried to write about but have still had no luck) and among various other crappy goings-on, I am now limping around the house with not only a sore hip and knee, but also a twisted ankle, two sore wrists, extremely shredded hands, and one scraped up forearm/shoulder, which is also a bit sore.

If my life was a TV show or something, it would all be kind of funny.

�Save the drama for your mama and pass me the Tylenol.�