I AM QUITE PEEVED.

WELL CRAP!

You guys I'm so upset. Last night I was jogging, FREAKING JOGGING! And what happens? My body remembered that it hates me, so it decided to show it's hate by sweet sabotage. I was just trottin along, mindin my own business, trying not to die, and BAM. What happens? I step on my grass the wrong way. (Only I could accomplish such a task) and I totally rolled/sprained my ankle. You guys, it hurt so bad I thought for sure I probably broke it. I laid on my lawn bawling, like a 3 year old girl who just lost her balloon. Good thing my brother was with me , or else I would still be lying there. He ran in (like a chicken with it's head cut off) and got my mom. She came out, my dad did too and he pulled the car around. I hopped in, and we pulled back into the drive way (longest ride ever). I went inside for about an hour and laid on the couch icing my ankle. Trying not to throw up from the pain, and deciding whether or not I could handle it. My mom decided that we were gonna go to the E.R. (mind you, the last time I went to the E.R. I was red as a lobster and everyone laughed behind my back. I could feel their laughter!) So I was some what skeptical about this trip. Well, we ended up going any way. I was still in my glorious running outfit (stretchy pants & tshirt, oh and smelling of victory or lack thereof). I hobbled into the E.R. on our handy dandy crutches. They checked me in. I refused any use of a wheel chair! I wanted to look tough. Oh, and I did. I so looked tough -_- Well any way. Long story short. The trip to the E.R. was a dud. We didn't get to see any 'real' emergencies..gushing blood, broken bones, etc. The staff didn't give me an I.V. with the good stuff. OH. AND MY FREAKING XRAY TECH WAS WAY TO GOOD LOOKING FOR 1:00 AM. I was very distraught. 

All in all, I'm pissed that I can't go walking/jogging. I'm gonna gain all my weight back. I've already worked so hard. UGH! It's okay, if I could do it the first time, I can do it again!..? BLEH.