Saturday, February 13, 2016

Brunch with Dad

I got up early, cleaned up as best I could, took a shower, and did my God Time.  Ron woke up, I tried to get him to take a bath, and he refused, but he did change his clothes.   I wore a purple heather t-shirt and capris. 

Mom and Dad arrived, bringing lots of Diet Dr Pepper, from my aunt.  Awesome. 

Mom took some photos of the cats.  The girls were obliging, and Gravy, but Biscuit had a panic attack when he saw the camera, tried to claw me when I picked him up, ran off, and hid.  Oh, well.  3 out of 4 isn't bad. 

Torbie was great at various glamor poses.  Then she rolled around in the dirt outside, for her "playful" series of photos. 

We went to our favorite BBQ place, it's about a 20 minute ride each way but worth it.  Both Mom and Dad said I gave very good directions.  Mom loved my hair. 

Dad isn't really the type to comment on hairstyles.  Mom noticed I had lost weight, without me telling her. 

Mom of course refers to my adoptive mother, she is technically my stepmom.  However, no matter what issues I've had with her, she is a lot better than my birth mother.  She was at least there every day, did the grocery shopping, made sure I had clean clothes that fit, milk in the fridge, showed me how to shave my legs,  taught me to sew and crochet, helped with my homework, took me to dance lessons, etc. 

My birth mother mainly specialized in massive alcoholic depressions, drinking in bed all day.  When she wasn't doing that she was creating high tension dramas and uproar.   The Bible says I have to honor her but it is hard to find something to admire.  She made a very hard life for herself, didn't manage her illness, tried to drink her troubles away, and literally smoked herself to death.  She did, however, get saved before her death so at least I will see her again. 

I had a good brunch with the parents.  Dad is sick, coughing, but not horribly so.  I think the medicine is working, but I still encouraged him to go home and heal up.  That, I told him, is a lot more important than any plans we made.  I got a couple good hugs out of each of them so I'm happy.  He also "let" me give him a bottle of olive leaf capsules.  I get mine from Swanson Vitamins. 

Ron mentioned how we might go visit them for a change, and they seemed pretty receptive.  I know, and miss, some wonderful places to eat.  Ron and I also miss riding the Caltrain, a huge commuter train.  I don't think he could climb the stairs to the second level, though. 

That might be something fun to consider.  We could only stay a couple days, if that, but that would be plenty. 

They really enjoyed the restaurant, the d├ęcor, music, and food.  I ate pancakes and feel very bloated (3 pancakes with butter and cane syrup).  The employees at the restaurant were very helpful.  I was delighted they liked the restaurant so much because it's the only place we could go - they are leaving tonight. 

After brunch, we drove back home, hugged, said our goodbyes, and off they went.  Ron hadn't used the walker and commented it seemed to make them very happy to see him "walking". 

Well, no one likes to see Ron struggling.  That's why some people at work think I'm a monster, because he struggles, at times, to do his work by himself and doesn't request any help. 

After they left, I took a nap, and then we went to Walmart.  Well, we tried.  Our driver was an hour late, and then they had to adjust our pickup time.  Otherwise our ride home would have arrived at Walmart before we'd even left the house! 

We got there.  I bought the A1C blood test you do at home.  It was about $20.  I was teasing Ron he had bought me a blood sugar meter for Valentine's day.  Ron needed a patch cord, which I bought, and then I sprayed it with the no-chew bitters repellent just now.  Otherwise the cats see all cords as chew toys. 

I got meat sticks, sugarfree wintergreen candy, Dove soap (sensitive formula) - the regular soap is too drying these days.  My oily skin is turning off the tap and I am developing more of a "normal" skin type.  Breakfast bars, stevia drink mix, you get the idea. 

We had a really good ride home.  I put my stuff away, sprayed the adapter cord, and will watch yet another romantic comedy with Ron.  He likes to watch one every night now.  We have a cable provider that offers free movies on demand, including many romantic comedies.  Last night's movie was pretty awful.  Let's hope tonight's is better. 

I think Ron prefers romantic comedies because they are pretty heavy on the dialogue and easy for him to follow. 

Friday, February 12, 2016

The daily package

I believe in getting the bad news first. 

My Dad sent me a text message, the gist being: I'm admitting I'm too sick to do all the things we planned.  I need to go home.  Sorry.  Can I meet you for breakfast tomorrow? 

I had been really hopeful maybe Dad wasn't that sick, but this is a man who waited 3 days with a gangrenous gallbladder, before he saw a doctor.  If Dad says he's sick, he is. 

I am also well aware pneumonia is a big killer of the elderly.  Dad is 74.  He also has a bad heart. Well, he has a great heart but the organ's a little iffy. 

[sigh]  NEVER the kind of thing I want to hear.  Ever. 

First, though, I had to get up at 2 AM and go to work for our soda delivery, which came an hour late.  I was glad I brought my knitting.  I worked on my project (a very simple rectangular wrap) while staring at my half-empty snack machines, wishing we could go to the warehouse and buy my inventory. 

We did, once I got the delivery. 

I got a lot of compliments on my hair.  Everyone loves it.  3 different people told me on separate occasions: "It makes you look younger".  I have never gotten that kind of positive feedback on my hair, ever.  Then I logged on here and got 3 more compliments!  (smile)

I put my knitting away (I had done about 2 feet by 2 inches in garter stitch, on a circular, with "I Love This Yarn" in the "Denims Ombre"), and we went to the warehouse.  I got all Ron's inventory, drinks, and then got my snack inventory. 

I asked him how long I needed it to last, he said about Wednesday.  I shopped accordingly. 

We left, went back to work, and I unloaded the truck.  Ron thanked me for doing the heavy physical labor.  Not a big deal. 

My hair "worked" while I was unloading.  It wasn't hot, didn't get in my way, and still looked cute.  Good.  I was a little worried how it would work with the heavy labor. 

Once we got in, Ron ran change (we have a coin sorter, we get a lot of coins so Ron runs them through the coin sorter to deposit, or go back into the changers or change banks), while I stocked. 

I finished up about half an hour before our pickup.  Understandably upset and freaked out by my Dad's news, it wasn't perfect, but it was good enough to hold us for a day or two.  All the favorites were in the coils and that's what mattered.  (I didn't do pastry, which is 5 coils in each machine.  Each machine has about 50 coils total)

By now totally exhausted, we came home and I got a nap.  I slept a little over an hour. 

I already arranged breakfast tomorrow with my Dad.  I'm not upset we will miss out on a couple of days together.  Not at all.  Health first, and if Dad feels that bad he needs to be at home in his own bed.  He loves hot tubs, and maybe a nice long soak in the hot tub every day will help. 

No, I'm not upset about that: I am worried about his health and possibly losing him.  He's not a good profile, you know. 

But, back in the 80's he was NOT the victim of a workplace shooter, because he was meeting my doctor.  I would have lost him at age 13. 

Later on, in the 90's, he nearly died of heart disease - but it was caught and treated in time.  I would have lost him at 23. 

Later on, several years ago, he blew out his gallbladder, which became gangrenous inside his body.  He was very sick for quite a while.  But God didn't take him then, either.  I was in my late 30's. 

When I think about it objectively, worst case, I "should" have lost my Dad 30 years ago.  But I didn't.  I should have lost him a couple of times since then, but I didn't. 

Personally, I came very close to death in 1988 (suicidal), and again in 2006.  In 2009 I had an allergic reaction to my antidepressant and could have died (but instead erupted in horrific hives over half my body).  I figure every day I've had since 2006 is a gift, one reason I am willing to accept some pretty raw side effects in the name of mental health.  I've seen Before, and I don't like it.  Not one bit. 

In the meantime, I will see Dad, tell him things are going well, take my pills (in front of him because they need to be taken with food), and generally display the "Very Stable" patient profile my Doctor admires.  Dad will have an easier time if he's not worried about me. 

I made a point of telling Ron I was going to lie down.  I only had about an hour and a half before the neighbors would start making noise. 

I woke up about an hour and a half later.  Ron began muttering loudly at the TV, and then yelled at it.  I think he was watching a televangelist (one reason I had such a hard time with the "evangelist" label).  I asked him to stop, he denied it, and made some very rude comments. 

"You're crazy.  Go take a pill.  Oh, that's right.  Your Dad is sick.  Well, get your [stuff] together..." 

I thought, what an asshole.  I thought, how cruel.  I thought "You will have to account for every word on judgement day and God is going to show you just what you did." 

I hate to admit, I hope my Dad doesn't die, or get sicker, because I think Ron would be horrific.  He would use it against me like he did today and be ugly and hateful, compounding my pain.  Yes, God would correct him (sooner or later), but I don't want to deal with the pain of Dad being sick/dying plus Ron's verbal abuse on top of it. 

It's interesting, I think, when something really awful happens I am "OK" for a while.  I'm not really numb, but it doesn't hit me for a while.  Then, all of a sudden, WHAP.  Then I need the handholding and the hugs and the it will be alrights. 

My last example: my mugging.  I was really fine with it for a day or so.  Then, WHAP.  A couple days later I had the shakes, the flashbacks, and a good start on PTSD. 

Well, I always have the PTSD.  With all I've had in my life I'm not surprised. 

I just wish the daily package didn't include so much pain. 

Thursday, February 11, 2016

Not stricken and a selfie photo

Yesterday was pretty dull, work, organizing, took a nap.  My mood is a little on the manic side which bodes well for cleaning up. 

I finally washed all the clothes and hung them up.  I have what I consider a decent wardrobe, now. 

I've continued to check my blood sugars, and they remain about 20 points above average.  I can work on that before I start having major complications. 

Speaking of, I got my health insurance card today.  I have a $6K deductible.  These days, that's an ingrown toenail.  After that is paid I am covered 100%.  I thought, if I have a problem, it will either be pretty cheap, like my sinus infection or the bladder trouble, $100 each, or it will be expensive, like Ron's "would have been 13K trip to the emergency room, but wasn't because he had Medicare". 

I ride with at least one person who makes me nervous, two if you count the elderly paratransit driver.  [sigh]  They have minimal liability coverage (one person I asked to increase, and he refused), and we all know what that means in an accident - trouble. 

Anyway, I got the card and I put it in my wallet. 

We also got a letter from the homeowner's association.  Apparently #6 broke his fence during one of their parties (kicking the ball into the fence repeatedly, breaks the slats).  It's his fence, but we got a letter too, which is apparently standard policy.  He already fixed it so we shouldn't have a problem. 

"It's his fault" I told Ron "For teaching his kids to kick the ball into the fence".  Yeah, it's cute when they're little, 3-4 years old, but when they're teenagers they have a lot more force behind that kick.  Ron and I both wonder why they don't go to one of the vacant lots in the subdivision, to play, like the other soccer fans. 

As you know, I have considered cutting my hair for a while.  I am pretty sick of the red henna "ends", especially when contrasted with my natural gray/brown hair.  It looked kind of garish and glaring, in my opinion.  The henna didn't go well with my skin tone anyway, so I had a choice of either cutting it all off, dying it another color and then maintaining that dye. 

We're going to come back to this. 

I also wanted some yarn to work on a project.  I wanted a small project, something I could work on while I was waiting, something fun, but not complicated.  I dug around in what's left of my yarn box, last night, and didn't find much. 

I decided I wanted to go to the craft store today.  I asked Ron if he could make a trip.  He said no, but he would pay for a cab to take me each way. 

I got up around 7 with a headache.  I did my God Time, went through the mail with Ron, took out the Salvation Army box, and finished the laundry. 

I hang up my t-shirts.  I feel that's the best way to keep them wrinkle free. 

As you can imagine, I have a lot of hangers for my tshirts.  I was happy to see my assortment in the closet.  Most of them are somewhat oversized, and all of them are very modest. 

All done. 

I took a shower, shaved my legs again (trying to keep it up so I don't have to shave half inch stubble), and took a hard look at myself in the mirror.  Did I want to cut off the henna part of my hair? 

I played around with my hair for a couple minutes.  If I did, I wouldn't be able to put it in a ponytail.  It would be more of a chin-length bob.  Was I OK with that?  I considered that for a few hours. 

The cab came and took me to the craft store.  The fare was $10, but I gave him a tip of course. 

I went in and started looking at the yarn.  I went with a colorway of wedgewood blues, called an ombre.  I actually made a blanket for my younger stepbrother in that colorway, about 25 years ago.  I wonder if he still has it.  I enjoyed working with it and enjoy looking at it, important because I'm going to be staring at it for hours as I work it up.  I also got some inexpensive circular needles. 

About this time, I got a text message from my adoptive Mom.  Dad has been coughing for a while.  She took him to the doctor.  He has pneumonia.  They gave him some steroids, and prescriptions for other drugs. 

That's not good. 

I really didn't care when my birth mother died.  What did I miss?  Neglect?  Abandonment?  She just wasn't present in any significant way, outside of massive neglect when I was an infant and toddler.  When that's my only experience with a parent, well, I don't miss it.  And I didn't.  I cried a little and felt bad in a general sense "my mother is dead" but I didn't really grieve because I didn't have anything to miss. 

Dad played more the primary nurturing role.  Dad is in pretty much every good childhood memory.  I always get anxious and upset when he is sick.  And I did. 

I called and spoke to them.  Honestly, I felt a lot better when I told Dad about our plans for lunch on Sunday and he was making yum yum noises at the menu.  When I'm really sick, I never want to eat, so I assume Dad is sick, but not stricken. 

Good.  Now, if you pray I would love it if you prayed for him. 

I was, understandably, pretty freaked out, but I managed to finish my shopping.  I walked out of the store in a daze, recalled I needed some cleaning products, and headed over to the dollar store.  I bought them and left (I left my shopping bag behind the counter and the employee was happy to take it). 

I had called Ron earlier and found out he wanted a shawarma from the Mediterranean place.  I really wanted to talk to him but he wasn't answering.  I ordered his food and finally got ahold of him.  He told me all the stuff I wanted to hear, your Dad will be fine, etc. 

I called my aunt and told her I was thinking about cutting my hair.  She was supportive. 

I realized I was pretty hungry but not in the mood for subs or Mediterranean food.  I went to Arby's and got a beef and cheddar.  Happily I did not get any on me while I ate.  It was pretty messy.  Then I walked over to the hair place and explained what I wanted: No more red, chin length. 

I'd been walking around a lot so I had them wash my hair.  I wouldn't want to put my hands in someone's sweaty hair.  She washed it, keeping me dry (yay!) and put me on the chair. 

She cut off the red and asked if I wanted to keep it.  I said no and she dropped it on the floor.  She took her time, more than I expected, but she was very thorough.  When I got up it looked like a hair explosion on the floor, around the chair.  I thought it was pretty funny.  I put on my glasses, had a look, and asked her to take a photo.  She was a little timid but did it. 


I went to Starbucks, called the cab, and got a ride home about 10 minutes later.  My Salvation Army box is still there.

I took a nap for about an hour, the cats brought something in, #6 made some noise, but that's pretty typical.  I hope I don't find whatever the cats brought home.  I hope they just eat it. 

My hair looked pretty good even after my nap. I'm not used to it right next to my face but I had this hairstyle for about 5 years around the turn of the century.  It should be a lot easier to maintain. 

Note: I part in the middle, not the side, but other than that you are looking at my new everyday look. 

I don't think I'm going to miss that long ponytail, dripping with sweat, the next time I unload the truck (tomorrow). 

I found it interesting, I put the photo on Facebook and my friends went crazy liking it.  Everyone loves it (Well, 22 of them do at present count).  That's good; I am liable to get yelled at by my drivers and the customers.  They get very upset every time I cut my hair. 

Yes, the concept of long wavy hair; lovely.  In reality, brushing it out, washing it, and drying it when depressed.  Having the hair dripping with sweat in the summer as I unload the vehicle; not fun, not pretty at all. 

I just want something cute and easy that won't send me to the hair dresser every month. 

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Because I can only wear one at a time

I've been sorting through my "closet", pruning out clothes I don't want.  I think I already discussed this. 

I gave away a lot of my smaller size fitness wear.  It will take a lot of fitness clothing in my current size before I'll fit into that, and someone can use it right now, get rid of that last 20 pounds.  I also had a lot of things I bought while manic. 

When I'm manic, I have no sense of taste.  I have bought slutty things, things in colors I hated, clothing styles I never wear, etc.  Sometimes more than one category.  Then I got it home, my mood switched, and I was left standing in front of my closet saying "What have I done?" 

Happily, while sorting through my pants (I have lots of 22W), I found some 20W.  This morning I tried them on and they all fit.  Great.  That saved me about $50.  One pair of jeans, two pair of capris.  The capris are black. 

I was discussing this with Ron and told him I was wondering if I needed another pair of capris "Because I can only wear one at a time", and he was horrified.  Of course I did, and he would buy it for me.  Well, if I do they will be denim blue. 

I wear capris about 9 months out of the year, so I feel fine about having 3 pair.  One pair of jeans in a 20 W is plenty for me.  Winter is almost over anyway. 

I slept pretty well and woke up a little before the alarm. 

I try to be respectful of the neighbor's privacy.  I know some of their professions, all of their working hours.  I know who is home at any given moment, who has a dog, etc.  Some people would use that information for bad purposes, so I don't share it. 

I wouldn't want someone talking about my details.  I try to protect them. 

I will say, however, that #6 is in a supervisory job.  Apparently one of his employees came over right after I woke up, around 7:30, and they had a talk.  The guy visiting had a nasty wet cough. 

The only good thing I can say about Sickie is I didn't hear him spit.  He was saying things like "Yessir" to #6. 

I was annoyed they were having this discussion outside my bedroom and not in his home.  Or, in his driveway away from my bedroom!  All I could say was, well, I get up early anyway (generally around 7 on a day off). 

Now, #6 may have assumed we left when we normally did (I'm not going to share that information), and weren't around anyway, but still, I felt - rude. 

On that note I decided to do my God Time.  I did that (part of which involved praying for #6 [laugh] - I do everyday but especially when they annoy me in some fashion).  Then I tried on my pants and found the 20's fit great. 

Yay! 

I sat on the edge of the tub with the bath poof and some rich bodywash (not expensive, but very moisturizing).  I got out one of my 4 blade razors. 

We are making a little more money than we were back in 2012, for instance.  I have seen very few changes, other than modest new "screens" (TV and monitor), the occasional bar of artisanal soap, and a 4 blade name brand razor instead of generic 2 blade pink ones.  I also use Tide, occasionally, for laundry detergent when Ron's made a mess, instead of generic brands.  The cats have always eaten name brand grain free cat food, regardless of finances. 

I try to be a good steward. 

Anyway, I shaved my lower legs and was pretty happy with the result.  I think I will continue to "do" my legs like that instead of upright in the shower.  I got in the shower and took the full shower. 

I did use the "luxury" body wash because my skin has been rather dry lately.

My hair is waist length.  Generally I just use a shampoo and not a conditioner.  My hair can get pretty frizzy in the humidity regardless of what I use, so my main focus is keeping it clean and out of my face.  I have a whole bowl of hair elastics and pull it back every day when it is dry, or nearly so. 

I have considered cutting my hair to chin length.  The henna red is growing out, leaving me with graying brown roots.  I'm fine with the roots, but a little sick of the henna.  I think maybe I should just cut it off and leave it in a bob. 

But then I think, wasn't the bob kind of a late 90's hairstyle? 
Will it get in my face?  Anathema. 
I don't really care what others think as long as it works for me.  More than once, depressed and showering, I wished I could have my head completely.  Cleanup would be so easy every morning!
Ron just wants me to be happy with my hair. 

So, I consider it. 

I got out of the shower.  By now it was about time to leave.  I dressed in the 20W capris and was happy with the pockets - many women's pants have tiny pockets.  I carry a lot of stuff in my pockets, including my folding knife.  You wouldn't believe how much cardboard I recycle every day at work.  But it has to be cut up and mashed first. 

Sometimes, when I need help at work, feeling overwhelmed, and Ron is done: I ask him to smash the cardboard for me.  He is always happy to do it. 

The pants were very comfortable all day.  Good.  Sometimes it will fit but I feel very constricted.  That's not fitting. 

We went to Walmart.  I got some more blood sugar test strips and alcohol wipes.  I am logging my sugars every morning.  Unhappily they have been about 20 points above normal.  Not happy with that. 

I would like to get some Metformin and see if that will help.  I have heard the ideal fasting blood sugar is about 85.  100 is "normal".  125 is not. 

I will discuss it with my p-doc and then my regular doctor if needed. 

I wanted to get the A1C test where you mail it off, and get results mailed back.  I thought that would be good for my appointment, but they don't do that anymore.  Instead they have a meter that reads it then and there. 

Not what I need.  But, I need to get my lithium level and chem panel done pretty soon (once a year), it would be easy enough to add an A1C onto that.  I remember last year my p-doc was bothered because the fasting number was 104.  Well, it's worse. 

I am working on that through diet but antidepressants and antipsychotics play hell with blood sugar control.  I venture to say you can find a lot of diabetic crazy people running around. 

After I did that, I got more razors, and then I went and looked at t-shirts.  Walmart has a lot of cotton/poly blend.  I am not really interested in them.  I did get a couple of purple t-shirts, one of which purports to have temperature control.  Then I got a 4 pack of "dry wick" black pocket t-shirts.  I was surprised to see I don't really have a lot of black at home. 

I got a brown heather, two purple heather (one light, one dark), a navy, and the 4 pack of black tshirts.  I was happy, that's plenty.  And, unlike pants, shirts are a lot more flexible with weight loss.  I feel more comfortable in a baggier shirt as opposed to a snug fit. 

Maybe it's because I was flat-chested most of my life, and now I have a bigger chest due to the antipsychotics.  I'm not accustomed to getting a lot of attention and it makes me uncomfortable.  Ron's lechery is one thing.  Another man's is uncomfortable. 

Which has also led to the purchase of padded bras today because some men seem to require them.  Some men at least will gape like a 12 year old boy if they get a hint of a nipple, and become pretty offensive in the process. 

So I bought a cheap ($4) padded underwire bra.  I also got a cute pink cotton one for $6 for when that guy isn't around.  It makes me mad.  It's bad enough I have to wear a bra.  Now I have to wear a padded one in a Houston summer because you can't control your gonads?  Ugh. 

I also bought a new package of underwear ($15 for 10) to celebrate my weight loss and closet purge, and because some of the elastic is unraveling on my current collection.  I tend to only buy new things when the old one is falling apart. 

"Now" I told Ron, meaning it "I'm done for the summer, except for that 1 pair of capris" (and, I do want to get some knit shorts - 2 pair I think). 

I went cruising and decided to buy some more hot dogs.  The old ones were eaten and didn't cause weight gain.  I hate to waste food or sabotage weight loss, so I'm happy.  I also got a block of cheese and a TV dinner, a cheap one (84 cents) to keep it all cold. 

Ron got some snack foods.  Now, I would have LOVED a bag of chips a day, but I didn't buy anything.  I figure, if I'm hungry I can eat what I have in the fridge. 

Right now I am craving, and plan to consume the nonfat vanilla greek yogurt and maybe a hot dog. 

We came home, and I took a nap.  I had some odd dreams I don't remember. 

Ron recently changed the cable package.  We get "Streampix" now, free movies on demand.  The new package costs less than the old one did. 

Ron watched a romantic comedy but didn't understand some of the interaction.  It was visual and he hasn't turned on the visual descriptive service.  I watched it with him.  It was a lot better than the thing he had me watch last night, which was totally depressing. 

This was a mostly cute romantic comedy with a very weird trailer at the end.  I worked on the laundry, I have 3 loads. 

I tend to wash everything together and some of my socks were kind of gray.  So I did a lot of just whites with some bleach.  They look a lot better now. 

Then I'm doing my mixed load with the colors.  Last, the blacks, the navy shirt, and the denim jeans.  Those will go in the black preserver load.  I also found a pair of Ron's black twill slacks in the dyer, they had some white lint on them, so I will rewash them with the black load. 

My hope is to get all this done before work tomorrow.  The whites are done, the mixed are on the spin cycle right now in the washer, and the blacks are dirty. 

So to speak. 

I adore my washer, it is very old and has one glitch, sometimes it doesn't spin.  I had to reset it just now.  But considering the items are all light knit cotton items, they should dry up pretty quick. 

I plan to wear the brown heather to work tomorrow.  Funny because I have brown hair and I'm Heather. 

It will be my private inside joke. 

Then, 30 years from now, I can wear gray heather to work and be gray Heather.  All things considered, though, I'm a lot less gray than I expected to be at this age. 

I found my first gray hair on my 21st birthday.  I have been told my birthmother started going gray at an early age, my entire childhood she dyed her hair blonde.  Probably one reason I would dye my hair any color but blonde. 

So, I'd have figured, 20 years later, I'd be completely gray, but really it's only about 40%.  Not bad.  My Dad did the salt and pepper look and it was fine for him but not a look I wanted.  Graying brown hair is just fine in my book.  Ron went from black to gray and now bald. 

It is funny to think he had mostly black hair (albeit a large bald spot) when we met, and now he has a frizz of gray hair surrounding a much larger bald spot. 

The cats are good, Biscuit and friends ate 2 cans of wet food today.  I hope it was just our cats. 

That's the problem with a cat door (cat flap): you never know just what animals are entering the door and visiting while you're asleep.  And mine's in my bedroom! 






Monday, February 8, 2016

I just use a belt

Today was a better day at work. 

Ron seemed resolved to be more cheerful and appreciative.  I have to admit, the cynical part of me wondered if that was because the boss was coming, later, and Ron didn't want to make a spectacle. 

At any rate, he was nice. 

We got up early, I took my shower.  I'm not back to shaving my legs yet, it's not capri weather. 

Interestingly enough, I don't wear long sleeved t-shirts.  If it is cold I layer a jacket over the short sleeved. 

My definition of "cold" has changed drastically, either due to menopause or the Wellbutrin (antidepressant).  Either, or both, could be responsible for the hot flashes.  I have pretty typical hot flashes, during the day, but nothing at night.  I will get warm and throw off my covers but no night sweats, happily. 

I like to sleep, and nap, with my heated mattress pad. 

I got to work, stocked (it didn't need much), helped Ron (he didn't need much), and organized our area to impress the boss. 

The boss came a little early, and we had a good yearly review "Our best ever".  Good.  We work hard, Ron especially, and it's good to see him get a little recognition. 

He will be taking away the broken fridge/freezer combo unit and bringing us a double fridge unit, instead.  We hope.  He's not sure, but he knows that's what we'd like.  We can put a lot more drinks into a double fridge, and we don't use the freezer side anyway. 

He may bring us some other equipment, possibly a coffee machine (I hope not) and a food machine (the one we have works but no more parts are available save the ones we scavenged a few years ago when we sent back an old one).  If they do, we'll replace the old food machine, I suppose, and rehome the parts we have in the garage.  I'm not sure if we'd give them to the repairman, or the state.  I don't think the state guys want the parts.  If they give us permission we will give the parts to the "good" repairman. 

Coffee machines are complex and difficult, and everyone is unhappy because they have differing opinions of "the perfect cup of coffee".  I remember we started using stronger beans because someone complained it was "too weak".  Then we had complaints it was "too strong!"  [rolleyes]  Anyway, I'm not going to worry about it. 

All our other machines have their glitches, but I make them work.  My favorite: the snack machine, #2, we call it.  I pull out a button to enter programming mode.  While in this mode I do accounting functions, set prices, etc.  When I exit programming mode, I push the button back in, and the machine literally throws 2-3 random items at me.  It makes me laugh every time.  I pick them up, restock them, and shut the machine. 

I can always use a laugh!  #2 is good for it, every time! 

Soda 1 has a weird door lock, and tends to coin jam.  It can also give inaccurate accountability readings.
Soda 3 is actually well behaved. 
Snack 3 won't give a nickel back on a transaction.  It will give any other change but a nickel, so I modified my selections so people either get no change (on purpose) or a quarter.  Two repairmen remain baffled. 
The Rowe food machine is old, and people tend to break the doors.  Which aren't made anymore. 
Soda 2 is very reliable. 
Snack 1 has a little trouble loading the coin mech. 
Snack 2, as I mentioned, likes to throw inventory at me when I exit the programming mode. 

You get the idea. 

We came home and I took a nap.  When I woke up I did more accounting stuff, the blog, God Time (not in that order), watched a movie with Ron (not a very cheerful one), and got rid of some clothes. 

I have a large donate box in the front room, and I'm filling it up.  If it doesn't fit, not a color I'd wear, etc, then it goes in the box.  Stuff I will wear, in smaller sizes (down to about a 12) are staying, but if it's not something I'd wear, even if it fit...

I am currently a baggy 22.  I may fit into a 20 but I haven't checked. 

I just use a belt for the 22's. 

Sunday, February 7, 2016

"I thought you were leaving me"

My cat scared Ron to death last night. 

"I found the bag in the hall" he told me dourly this morning.  "Want to explain that?" 

I was baffled.  I explained I keep a small trash bag next to my chair..."No, this was luggage, like you were leaving me." 

Oh, that.  Torbie knocked over my hospital bag.  She likes to sharpen her claws on it and pulls it over into the hallway.  I keep it in the front room in case we have some medical crisis and Ron needs to go to the hospital.  That way I have snacks, entertainment, blankets, etc. 

"Hospital bag, huh?" he responded.  "I thought you were leaving me." 

"If I leave you" I told him "I won't leave bags lying around in the hall - I'll just go." 

"I figured that" he responded.  "That's why I didn't wake you up." 

I reminded him waking me up is always a very bad idea, unless he is ill.

Then he tried to tell me he was only worried I was "bothering" my aunt and uncle, and Ron felt that was "unfair".  It really bothers him I have a safety net. 

However, assuming I would leave him because he was verbally abusive to me one day - that would have happened before we even got married.  Not to mention I doubt my aunt and uncle would take me in for that, either. 

I tend to save them for "Ron is having a blackout and making threats against my physical safety, and it isn't safe to sleep here tonight." 

I have also worked on saving a small emergency fund so I have more options. 

SAD I even have to consider this, or that Ron even went to "She must be leaving me" when he found the bag in the hall. 

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Strong

"You know," I told Ron sadly "[your actions] live forever."  Then I walked off and went to the bathroom. 

I woke up with yet another headache.  Ron, convinced the weather man was right, insisted we delay our trip to the warehouse "Until the rain had passed". 

Well, the rain passed about 5:30 AM today, and I had to sit around the house waiting to go to work at 1 PM.  We finally went to the warehouse, which was a screaming hell that didn't help my headache. 

I got the supplies.  "Ron" I told him "There's a problem with the Pepsi.  It's too big.  It won't fit."  He cursed me out and demanded I buy it anyway.  So I did. 

I got the rest of the supplies, and minimal stuff for my departments, and got the hell out.  The only benefit as I saw it: 3 cart attendants, any of whom could have helped me load the truck (one did). 

We got to work, I unloaded, I started working on snacks.  Ron found the Pepsi we had bought last time, the Pepsi I had repeatedly talked to him about, and blew up.  How could I be so stupid?  Bad communicator!  Etc. 

I finally said "Ron, this is verbal abuse and I'm not going to stand here and take it."  and I walked off. 

He continued to harangue me about my "poor communication". 

"Ron" I told him "What else could I have done?  I told you, it's too big.  I told you, it won't vend.  I told you, we shouldn't buy more.  I told you "It won't fit".  What else could I have told you?" 

He said I didn't ask him for feedback.  "Ron" I replied "You were shouting at me." 

He told me I was a bad communicator and I replied I had told him, repeatedly, he had simply chosen not to hear what I said.  He got on the "feedback" thing again. 

"Ron" I told him "When I do that you shout at me.  When I don't do that, you shout at me.  What's the point?  You'll just shout at me anyway."  He told me to remind him that he had "asked for it".  He always says this, and then when I give him feedback he shouts at me, I try to remind him, he shouts some more, and I give up on the "feedback" thing altogether. 

[Sigh]  Surprisingly, the headache did not return during all of this, and I managed to keep my end of it low key and private. 

"Ron" I reminded him, on more than one occasion.  "I'm the only one here for you.  You've got one person helping you.  That's it."  Implied, you should treat her with more consideration. 

"You know" Ron said "That's a bad thing I do, but I feel like you hurt me (why, by warning him the sodas were the wrong size?), so I have to hurt you back."  That's when I told him "Actions last forever." 

If I had "permission to speak freely" I would have said "The soda won't even matter in a week, but your words will last a very long time." 

Later on he said "I don't want to scare you" (yes he did) "But (our finances) are all a house of cards and one day..." 

"Either it will or it won't" I replied blandly.  "We'll see." 

It's manipulation.  I'm supposed to have anxiety about finances instead of focusing on his bad behavior. 

It was exhausting.  I was less tired after I ran 7 miles one night. 

He is very emotionally abusive.  He admits it, in context. 

A good example.  "I don't mean to hurt you... but you're really messed up, I need someone "better" than you" - he made that comment a couple of times.  The next time he starts with the not wanting to hurt me I'm going to say "Good, then stop right there and don't say it." 

"I love you..." he started at another point. 

"But..." I interjected.  He started to talk in agreement and realized what I was doing, I was already putting in the modifier before he could, realizing he was giving me the kiss before the slap.  He gave some excuses why there is always a "but" in why he loves me, I wasn't receptive, and he left. 

At another point he was complaining how I was "so broken, and he needed someone better".  "Why did God have to give him a broken woman?" 

"Ron" I replied sadly.  "You say I'm broken.  What are you?"  I walked off.  I hope he realized I was making the point: as bad as his physical problems are, the hearing loss, blindness, brain damage, mobility issues, I have never once made him feel bad about things he can't control.  Never have I done this. 

I'm wrong.  ONCE.  He used the toilet and it flooded.  He was standing in the doorway while I frantically tried to clean up.  He made some comment to me about sorry he couldn't help. 

"I wish" I told him in frustration "You weren't blind, and you could clean this up yourself!"  That was it.  That is the worst thing I have ever said to him about his problems. 

He does it, ongoing.  At the core of it he refuses to believe my problems, if they even are a factor, are just as "real", organic, and legitimate as his own.   

Funny thing, though, reading all this I'd say I'm pretty damned strong.  Not many women could put up with 24 years of this and still have a strong faith in God, much less any kind feelings towards Ron! 

Do you know one of his ex girlfriends tried to kill him?  I believe it completely, but I'm not going to prison for anyone!  If I really wanted to "get" Ron I would just leave him.   

At another point Ron was telling me, in addition to all my other job duties, I have to maintain the inventory and make sure "all the drinks" are in the refrigerator. 

"Ron" I told him "I do snacks, food, deliveries, and more.  You do drinks." 

"What?!"

I repeated myself.  "You do drinks.  Why can't you take care of that yourself?  Take a look and tell me what you need in there, rather than expect me to do it?" 

"Oh." He replied.  "I thought you said 'All you do is drink.'"

No, I responded.  His drinking was his issue, not mine.  He agreed he would check the fridge and tell me what he wanted. 

I am exhausted. 

Friday, February 5, 2016

Another headache today

Depressed, another headache. 

I did manage to run to Walmart with Ron, and get a nap, sort of. 

I got a couple of new bras, and one of those high tech moisture control tshirts from the Men's department.  When we got over to the cat food I realized it had a nasty snag, so I put it back and got something else, instead. 

Ron wanted cat treats, we needed office supplies, and since Ron was "good" I got him a corn dog from the hot food area of the store. 

He really enjoyed the corn dog, with no unpleasant side effects.  Good, often times greasy fried foods will have - cause - problems. 

I'm just sick of these headaches. 

I've been checking my blood sugar every morning - I do this periodically because antipsychotics and antidepressants, which I take, can lead to diabetes.  I prefer to catch things "coming".   I bought a small box to store my supplies, because I've found the zippered case that came with the meter doesn't really work for my purposes. 

I'm pretty good at lancing my finger, getting a drop, fishing out a test strip, loading it into the meter, and then loading it with the blood drop (not very large).  A few seconds later I get a BEEP and my reading. 

Ideally it should be around 85.  Lately it has been a little higher than that, but not in the danger zone.  So I want to watch it.  I also got a notebook to log my readings. 

Ron and I also worked on the accounting report.  Not only did we do pretty well sales-wise, I also did it sick.  I was sick for a good 3 weeks out of the month. 

Years ago, when I was less mature, I would call in sick for anything.  These days I'd have to be vomiting or half dead to stay home. 

Well, I did stay home when I had the flu, back in 2006.  But I was only out for a few days.