"If I die young..."

"...bury me in satin, lay me down on a bed of roses, sink me in the river at dawn, send me away with the words of a love song."

Seriously, if I am able to move in the morning, I will be amazed. I was already sore when I said that I would climb on the roof and stain cedar shakes, but it needed to be done. So I spent all afternoon working on strengthening my ankles (and every other muscle in my legs) trying not to slide off the steep incline, most of the time successfully but not always. And if that wasn't enough, I made myself go running for a couple of miles before dinner.

Now I feel dead. Or almost. As if I know what that feels like anyway.