My fingers resemble Vienna sausages, swollen round little pink things that refuse to type without misspellings. My eyes feel like I’m peering through a big glob of Vaseline on my contact lenses, but even when I switched to glasses the haze didn’t disappear. All day long I’ve felt like I’ve had a hangover, although I only had half a hot buttered rum last night before deciding I was too tired to bother finishing it. I was in bed by 10 p.m. but feel like I haven’t slept in days.

In other words, I did not want to exercise, but I did it anyway.

Oh, I didn’t do anything strenuous, probably not even enough to appease the fitness police much less my physician. I spent 10 minutes doing stretches and yoga, and another 15 doing squats, lunges, crunches and working with hand weights. After that, I stretched some more because it felt surprisingly good.

Then I napped.

Ok, I’m no doctor, but it seems to me that something more than Motrin is called for if I need a nap by 9:30 in the morning. Now here it is, 3:30 in the afternoon, and I’m wondering whether I have time to take another one before I make dinner.

I. Feel. Like. Crap.