in the words of my uncle...

Uh-oh, somebody get the tricorder.

Going to take the trash out is a drag, but necessary. So tonight, I go to do exactly that. And I discover that ice has frakking well coated the back steps, and not only that, but it's frozen in a slant, so instead of three ice-coated stairs, there's essentially a slippery as hell ramp. I'm me, so I attempt to take the first step down. Don't laugh, folks. I know it was a dumb move. I realize about a quarter of a second before I hit my ass that, even if I had any in the boots I'm wearing, no amount of traction is going to help me here.

Then I land, crash! largely on my left leg, elbow and hand. Ow ow effing *ow!* Cue cursing, colorfully and loudly, interspersed with declarations of my hatred of Wisconsin winter and at least one snarl. Yes, by the way, I did eventually get the trash thrown out, but it was only by making use of a ledge to the side of the impassable stairs that I got back to the door again.

My left elbow is massively bruised. My leg seems to have escaped that fate, but my left hand and wrist, primarily near my thumb, have not. Typing is slow, and there is wincing. Ow ow frakking ow! *mumblemutters*

If Spider Robinson was right, and God's idea of slapstick is to slap you with a stick, was this God's take on the slip-on-a-banana-peel gag? Gah! I'm really rather glad I worked on what I need to take into the office tomorrow earlier today, suddenly. Frak you very much, winter. I'm putting salt out on the back steps tomorrow.

Oh man, what's holding Bosco's harness going to feel like come tomorrow morning? Gods dang it...