Comatose

People think shopping for work is all glitz and glamour. It is fun, and I enjoy what I do. But after you've spent two solid days schlepping stuff around in 93+ degree heat, you just feel like a nasty, sweaty, beat-up puddle of sloth. I've been to at least 35 stores -- probably more -- in two days.

To top it all off, I went to do an interview and help with a photo shoot tonight (both of which went really, really well, thank you for asking), but it sucked up the last bits of my energy and personality.

Arriving home at 8 p.m., there was no chance of a normal dinner happening. I had four pieces of pepperjack cheese on wheat crackers and a raw turkey dog, straight from the fridge.

That's officially the worst meal in the world, for the record, and if you're vomiting at the thought of it, I'm sorry. But washing the blueberries and steaming asparagus (my original plan for dinner) seemed like too much of a chore.

Only five situations exist that would make me more exhausted than I am right now.

1. Being Jack Bauer on the season finale of "24" (any season).

2. Being a surgical resident working in the ER.

3. Being Lucy and Archie after 9 hours at doggy day care.

4. If I had just finished playing in the SuperBowl.

5. Trying to find a swimsuit that doesn't make me want to kill myself (which I did last week and weekend, and trust me, it's exhausting).

Off to bed and it's still light outside. Oh my God, I'm OLD. If I start eating dinner at Denny's at 4 p.m., someone please kill me.