pop goes the weasel

I remember getting my mom a plaque for her 50th birthday that said:


Middle age is when you hear Snap, Crackle, Pop
and you're not eating cereal.


I've been snapping and crackling for the past few years, but today was the pop. Last week I celebrated the 33rd anniversary of my birth and today I am feeling every one of those 33 years. I had hurt my back last week bending backwards while painting the ceiling. It took awhile to heal and the pain was almost gone. Until today. While taking the garbage out with my hair icing up and my nose hairs freezing and dropping off like icicles, I slipped and righted myself only to hear the infamous pop. I managed to get the garbage out, came in, popped some red pills and turned on the heating pad.

If you can avoid it, don't get old. It's not fun and roses.