Funny how things work. For about a month, my back has been killing me, I think I slipped a disk or something taking the air conditioners out. Every day I wake up with back pain, it goes away, but damn I fucked something up. Sucks getting old.

Anyway, so I was taking out the trash tonight (tomorrow being trash day and all). They gave us (the "neighborhood") these new big trash cans, you're only allowed to use one. They are fairly large and can easily hold at least a few weeks of trash and they have big wheels; it just arrived in my driveway one day. I stood there looking at it, looked down the street and saw about three other neighbors doing the same thing, standing there looking at the new big green trash can thing. It was surreal. But that has nothing to do with this story....

So out I walked with a bag of trash to put into my new trash can thing and going down my front steps, I slipped. Not just slipped, but one of those slips where you fly up really far into the air, like in the cartoons. Since I had a bag of trash in one hand and a flashlight in the other, I really had no chance of catching myself. As I flew up into the air, two thoughts crossed my mind. I remembered telling Dog(tm) to be careful on the steps because I hadn't bothered to scrape off the ice (not that he ever listens to me) and 2 - I should have fucking scraped the ice off the steps. So up I went...

And down I came, landing squarely on my back, right on the corner of one of the steps, and heard a crack. I laid there for a bit as you usually do after you really fuck up, wondering if I was alive, and if I was, if anything was broken. After a moment I got up. I was OK. I cursed myself for being so stupid. Dragging the trash out to the trash can thing I realized that my back no longer hurt! No shit!

Who needs chiropractors!