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Twisted my back yesterday. I'm having a hella time just moving, sitting, thinking - anything. It aches. It pings when I move. I'm whining. It hurts when I whine. It's my lower back and I had a real fun time trying to get my left leg into the car this morning.

So, I'm going to The Princess' chiropractor today to get it put back into place.

It all started Friday. The Princess made buffalo burgers and I decided to grill them on our $300 stainless steel super grill. I check back on the burgers, and after 10 minutes at medium heat, the whole friggin' thing had had a meltdown. The grills themselves were melting. The knobs for adjusting the flames had melted. I burned my hands opening the doors on the cabinet underneath -- I had to remove the LP canister so we wouldn't blow the fuck up. Happy I was not. The LP canister was seized and I couldn't shut it off. I had to set it down in front of the grill, pray nothing would catch or blow up and then hope it was close enough to empty that it would just shut itself off. Which it did after about 15 minutes.

That was 15 minutes of me standing 40 feet away with an itty-bitty fire extinguisher, biting my nails.

Sunday, The Princess' cold [which she came down with just before the weekend] is kicking her butt, and we can't go to church. So, I decide I'll move the old grill down to the curb and we'll go get a new, smaller one at Home Depot -- because I have a $15 coupon!

After we get back from Home Depot, I rolled the monster grill out through the house, into the garage and down the driveway. I put a "SUFFERED MELTDOWN" sign on the piece of shit and left it there. It was not there this morning; hopefully whoever took it read my sign. If not, I take no responsibility for their missing eyebrows.

After moving the old grill out, I picked up the box with the new grill and hefted it out onto the back patio. *PING* Something popped in my lower back. I boldly ignored it and plowed forward with assembling the grill. Then I potted some plants, planted some tomatoes and fed and watered the veggie garden. By then, my lower back was threatening to catch with every move I made. I moved like the Tin Man from Oz.

I finally told The Princess what I'd done. She made me shower and put an icepack on my back when I got out. We ran out of Ibuprofen. I whined. She gave me some champagne. I drank it and whined some more. I slept with a pillow under my knees; actually, I lay in the bed with a pillow under my knees and tried to sleep. I was not very successful.

So, here I am today with an appointment to see a chiropractor. My first visit ever. After being threatened with surgery every time I went to see a sports doctor in the past, I decided I'd take a different route and see if an adjustment will cure what ails me.

Whine.