I hate ice

Or should I say that Ice hates me? Today while walking back to the office after putting something in my car, I fell on ice that was under the snow. Glare, slick, slippery ice...I stiff armed the fall and shot my elbow and jolted my shoulder. Disgusted and hurt I stood up and took two more steps.
BAM
I did it again.
[Only this time I considered laying there until my boss got back from lunch and see what he had to say. ]
I didn't fall lightly the second time. And it really hurt. I cursed and swore and carefully stood up.
Last week I'd complained about the ice, in fact I'd slipped and busted a photo frame I had in my hand in the very same spot. Then I went into the office and put about 20lbs of salt on it so no patients who might park by my car would get hurt.

So after boss came back from his lunch I told him what happened.
*Oh, gee, sorry.*

Then he shoveled out front and salted.
Jerk.
Later on he asked how I was doing and I said *Man I hurt!*
What really stinks is that tonight my shoulder and arm are on fire. This is the shoulder that had surgery last July.
I really can't afford to fix my shoulder again. But tomorrow I may just see a doctor since I will be at the clinic.
Jerk.
Dang Ice.