Why I Hate Shoveling (and so can YOU)!

So, I don't know if anyone else noticed, but it became winter a while ago. This means a couple of things, in my experience:
1) 'Sgonna be COLD, and
2) 'Sgonna snow.
I am pretty OK with cold. I don't like being cold, but I do enjoy being warm when it's cold everywhere else. And I really, really hate being hot, so I don't mind winter much in that respect.
As for snow, I actually enjoy it. It's like fluffy bits of ice that insulate your flesh! The problem with that is it tends to land on my houses driveway. And its sidewalk. And its stairs. And that means the snow has to be removed. And THAT means manual labor FTW!
Before I start ranting in earnest, let me explain something. I am suited physically to heavy labor. I am extremely proficient at lifting heavy objects, moving them, and setting them down. By extension, this means I am ALSO quite proficient at shoveling.
And so, when more than one half inch of snow falls, it is my sworn duty to get out there and shovel! And shovel! And shovel! And repeat as necessary! Keep going! It's not clean yet! It's Shoveling Time! At this point, I don't even CARE if I'm overusing exclamation points!!!
...Anyway, my main point is that shoveling gets old fast. no matter how much snow you remove, there are always more pretty little ice crystals ready to get a piece of that action. I wouldn't be so annoyed with this, but shoveling involves leaning over and shoveling for weeks at a time, until my eyes gain the cast of an explorer whose eyes have long swept the horizon in search of distant glory, who's had his retinas burnt out from all the stupid snow reflecting the glare of the black day star into them. And that leaning over I was talking about hurts. My spine no longer functions. I'm like a six foot tall hunchback. If I have to shovel one more pile of snow, I'm going to run to France and have Victor Hugo write a story about me.