The cold broke this week and I attempted to take advantage of it by going for a run. Unfortunately, unasthmatic Melissa stayed in Korea and her evil twin, incredibly asthmatic Melissa, returned. I made it to the end of Sawkill Ruby Road before slowing to a fast walk, silently cursing myself for not bringing my inhaler. I made it down to Halcyon Park and back, about three miles total. I felt great as I stepped into the shower and I felt OK as I ate dinner, but I wasn’t feeling so hot by the time I collapsed into bed. Yesterday morning, I woke up congested and a little sore, but whatever. I ended up leaving work early and spent the afternoon on my couch. I woke up this morning, turned onto my side, and knew we were gonna have some problems. My back feels like there are a million sharp knives in it (drama queen, much?), and every time I turn or take a step, I’m reminded of that. When did I turn into an 80-year-old woman? Yeah, I don’t know either.

So I split the day between the couch and bed, popping ibuprofen and wondering why I’m in so much pain. I am a healthy child. I am a healthy child!! What gives, back? Why you gotta be hurtin’ like this?

I am finally caught up on Grey’s, but I’ve still got 30 Rock, The Office and Greek to work on, not to mention the entire third season of Gossip Girl. In between this sitcom goodness provided to me by Hulu, I’ve got Youtubes galore. Olympic skater Evgeny Plushenko’s “Sex Bomb” routine takes the cake. This is easily the best video I’ve ever seen. Ever. Better than the little girl crying about Justin Beiber, better than “Scarlett Takes a Tumble,” better than “All the Single Babies.” See for yourself:

Now tell me that wasn’t the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. Go on, I dare you to find something better.