Look! It's Shredder!

As I limped across the parking lot toward Britton (work) today, I had a sudden and terrifying realization:

Should one of my co-workers haphazardly careen into the parking lot, I would be a goner.

Should zombies, Terminators, or Uruk-hai appear in the distance, there would be nothing I could do. I would be dead. I would be so dead.

I'm on day 3 of Jillian Michaels' 30 Day Shred, and the suffering is immeasurable. My knees give out mid-stride, my arms shake under the sheer weight of a laptop case, and my ability to maintain forward motion is embarassingly unreliable. Why, only last night, Tad had to physically help me off the couch because I was incapable of standing up on my own. My legs and arms simply would not oblige.

So, I'm a sitting duck--a perfect target for any of the aforementioned monsters. I am unable to save myself from the throes of terror because I am unable to move. Yes, that's right. UNABLE TO MOVE.

So until my muscles kick in and resume their position of allowing me to walk without looking like an idiot, I'll leave you with a quasi-appropriate quote from John Conner . . . yet the only thing I could think of as I hobbled across the parking lot and glanced over my shoulder for any sign of red eyes or squealing tires:

"We are dead! WE ARE ALL DEAD!!"