Monday, August 31, 2015

Monday

I had a hard time falling asleep last night.  I even tried taking an antihistamine, which made me manic.  Counterproductive. 

About 8 PM, I put my rice pot on a timer, and filled with a half cup brown rice mixture (a mixture of brown rice and whole grains I got at the Vietnamese grocery, delicious), a quarter cup of lentils, and a cup and a half of water.  I used a little salt but nothing else. 

I set it to start cooking at 1, pushed the ON button, and laid in bed for hours trying to sleep. 

I finally fell asleep.  I'm having dreams, pretty much every night, about "leaving" on a one-way journey, which I assume relate to the rapture.  I have never dreamt of anything with such frequency. 

Do I think they are Holy Visions of some sort?  No.  Maybe God is talking to me, maybe it's just my way of expressing my hope I do get raptured soon.  At any rate they aren't bad dreams.  I can remind myself, during the dream, "I'm having the dream" and manage it. 

I woke up, disappointed I didn't smell food cooking.  I put on my glasses and went into the kitchen, to find a wonderful meal waiting in the pot.  I put it on WARM and took my shower. 

I really like the haircut, it is easier to clean, dry, manage, and even nicer, it doesn't get caught in my bra when I fasten it.  I got dressed and went back in the kitchen, dishing up about half my casserole. 

Perfection.  Now, I set it so it was on COOK for about an hour, and I soaked the ingredients for a couple hours first. 

The grains were just chewy enough, yet tender.  The lentils were perfect.  I was full for hours, and the Wellbutrin felt it was a suitable meal.  It also works with the other pills - very nice! 

We went to work. 

I had to laugh at God's timing.  Our driver was playing the Unshackled radio program, featuring a story of a hard core alcoholic.  I had to twitch a little as some of the reasoning matched Ron's exactly "I need it to sleep" etc.  Ron looked pretty solemn, thinking. 

Good.  I tell you, God is working on him.  I'm not going to let Ron destroy me, but I'm going to give God room to work, too.  Most importantly, I'll be praying for him in the process. 

We arrived just in time to watch the on-site police ending their "What 4th amendment?" bag search.  I understand, you don't want drugs or weapons, but it is disturbing. 

Anyway, they missed us.  I doubt they would have found my crap interesting, anyway. 

We went in, got 2 deliveries, stocked everything, did end of month accounting stuff, and waited an extra hour to pay a refund. 

I was exhausted. 

The Bible says not to call any man an idiot.  (Matthew 5:22).  I'll just say I think our return trip driver has a great career - in another field. 

When I got out, I silently praised God for the continued use of my legs, fleeing into the house. 

Ron followed, pushing his walker like an 80 year old man. 

I ate my food.  The timer had gone off but it was still warm.  I'd added a half cup of water when I left the house.  Next time I need to add more, it stuck a little at the bottom (maybe a tablespon), but it was fine, delicious, and cleaned easily.  I added a little butter because the lithium likes a little fat, and didn't have a single problem. 

Wonderful! 

I then collapsed into bed.  It was about 1 PM. 

I woke up a couple hours later, with a headache, took something, and went back to sleep for a while.  When I woke up again the headache was pretty much gone. 

It did crawl off after I drank about half a gallon of decaf iced tea. 

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Don't feed the drivers.

I found this one alarming. 

This morning Ron made a big production out of "forgiving" me.  Part of his little speech involved telling me how "crushed" or destroyed, some similar word, he had been.  How it was a "good thing" I was sorry for it (I never apologized) because he would "hate to have to crush you, too". 

WTF????

WHAT THE HELL DID I MARRY? 

I couldn't wait to get out of there.  I was already 90% out the door.  I knew, however, Ron would get angry about the garbage.  I was in the middle of trying to figure that out when he woke up. 

1.  He doesn't want me to take the trash out when he's sleeping, because it "wakes him up".  Fine.  I don't want to wake anyone up. 

2.  He wants me to "clean up" which involves generating trash. 

3.  He gets angry when I "fill up the garbage can and make more work for him".  He is a little OCD in his trash disposal.  He was incredibly upset he couldn't put his booze bottles in the recycle, even though he doesn't care about being "green".  I told him "Why not just throw them in the regular trash?"  That may be a head injury thing. 

Anyway, I was about to take the trash and put it in the garage until I came home, but he woke up so I tossed it.  That's when he hit me with the little nugget, above. 

I didn't even find the words as creepy as the tone of voice, this "I'm so loving" tone that put chills up my back. 

I needed several items, and a haircut.  I realized I could accomplish all of them if I went to the Walmart, which is now only 2 bus rides away.  I fled as soon as I could. 

I took a shoulder back, with an empty mesh backpack inside.  I did want to buy some stuff, not too much, and I figured that would work.  It actually works great.  The backpack folds up very nicely, leaving plenty of room.  I took a couple water bottles and ran out the door. 

I did not want to sit around in that house, him abusive and drinking.  No thanks. 

He probably thought I left because he "ordered" me to, last night.  He is a narcissist. 

I used to get upset at the thought of Ron reading my blog, now I'm not.  I only write the truth.  I only share my experiences, and my views around them.  If he has a problem with that he'll have to live with it. 

I rode the 85 to the end of the line, at the mall.  I had to wait about half an hour on the 86.  That was the worst wait I had all day. 

I boarded the 86, and we rode to the Walmart (eventually).  I had to ride with two, very weird, old white guys.  Both of them clearly delusional and they just gave me the creeps. 

It's funny, because I had plenty of black guys dressed in gang colors, which a white woman would probably find far more disturbing.  Not me. 

I went in and talked to the stylist.  About 45 minutes.  I did my shopping, and got everything, including the timer.  I will see how the lentils do in the rice pot, tonight. 

Speaking of food, I'm having some whole grain shredded wheat with flax seeds on top, for dinner.  Apparently flax helps with hormonal breast issues - I don't have them yet and I hope to prevent them this month. 

One of my drivers had complained of hunger, so I bought a box of granola bars and handed them out to bus drivers (after I "paid" with my card) all the way home.  They were a big hit.  I have to do that again. 

They have signs, no music, no smoking, no drinking, but they don't have a sign saying "Don't feed the drivers". 

I went to the hair place.  Since I had been out in the heat, I had her do a shampoo first.  I'm not going to have someone stick her hands into my sweaty hair!  We did that, and I told her I want to take off a couple of inches, about halfway down my back, use your good judgement. 

I have never had a bad haircut when I said that.  We did the trim and I am very happy with it.  I gave her a good tip.  I am an overtipper, and I am happy to say that.  I plan to go back, when it gets unreasonable, again. 

Ron and I talked off and on.  I had asked him if the boy cats liked beefy things, when I was looking at cat food. 

He seemed pretty reasonable and sober, but the minute I walked in the door he poured himself a huge drink.  Then wondered why I wasn't very chatty. 

So, what did I buy?  Vitamins.  I just did up my pills and I was out of Vitamin A.  I get horrible skin infections, and gingivitis attacks (horrific pain) if I run out.  I also got some E. 

Cat food and some nice bar soap for bathroom hand washing, it's a lot lighter to carry than the liquid, too.  I honestly didn't see a liquid soap that looked interesting. 

I got my timer, some snacks, and some Diet Dr Pepper.  I had a very good time. 

I decided to take 3 buses home rather than cross 1960, which is a very busy road.  I just don't need it, you know? 

I don't need any more drama in my life.  I mean, really? 

I waited a while, but not long, on the next 86.  I caught it over to the "good" stop.  Most people get off the bus and walk over to a shared 86/44 stop.  I'd only do that if I "had" to get a "good" seat.  Like I told the driver "I'm a lazy fat girl.  I don't want to walk any more than I have to!"  She laughed. 

I got off at the shared stop and waited (my secret stop also has plenty of seating due to a retaining wall).  Again, I hardly sat down before the bus came. 

On the way to my third bus, I got a little sick.  While I'm not allergic to almonds, they give me horrific heartburn.  I literally felt like I was having a heart attack.  Happily I carry some pepto chewables in my bus pass wallet. 

I got off, walked over to my 85 bus stop, and sat down.  Just for fun, I texted the bus stop number to the bus company.  They texted me back, informing me my next bus was due in a minute.  Yeah, ri...what? 

And there it was! 

I had a rough ride home due to the heartburn.  I am never eating almonds again.  Ugh. 

I got off at my stop and walked home.  It was hot but not too bad, and I'd hydrated.  I am also careful to take a salt tablet prior to any hot weather exercise, and it really helps (I do this because I take lithium, which depletes my body of salt - talk to your doc). 

I walked in the door, Ron and I chatted a minute, I gave Biscuit (left eyepatch, gray tail) a can of filet mignon.  He and the other cats (except Torbie, who hates wet food) agreed it was pretty good.  I serve it on disposable foam plates, and throw the whole works away when they're done. 

Ron started drinking and went to his room.  I found my rice pot and set it up with the timer (a little learning curve on the timer, there).  Ron started bugging me a little later but I told him I was busy. 

He was shocked. 

I was.  I guess I didn't display the "right attitude" but things are going to come to a head here, one way or another. 

I really need some prayer on this.  At the very least I want to drag him to get some counseling on PROPER ways to handle disappointment and hurt feelings. 

Saturday, August 29, 2015

Without me

I realized something today. 

Ron's a big talker.  Big mouth, big talk, I don't want you in my life.  You're everything bad.  You're the reason I hate God. 

Yet, today, he couldn't even find his way to the bus stop, without my assistance.  I still have to guide him, over a year after they finished the expansion. 

Because he can't even find the "door" without me. 

Not to play

I would never allow Ron near a child of mine.  It would kill me if my son treated his wife the way Ron treated me, or my daughter emulated my relationship with Ron.  

Earlier today, Ron complained he'd have to wait on drinking, if we went out tonight.  "Going out" in my experience, is generally a quick fast food hamburger. 

I'm happy with that, my love language is quality time.  I was happy.

We came home at about 6.  Ron immediately went to drinking and occupies the whole kitchen when he does, sitting on his walker.  I had to ask him to move so I could throw away the junk mail, and he took his drink with him.

It's generally BAD when he sits in the kitchen, on his mobility device, whatever it is, drinking.  Sure enough he started trying to pick fights.  I didn't respond.  He said something about how I had "offended" him so many times, and he was tired of forgiving me 7 times 77.

Many years ago, when we started dating, Ron asked me to please correct him if he said something ignorant.  He did not want to appear ignorant to anyone.  So, I do.  He always says thank you.

Tonight, he blew up.  How dare I judge him, etc.  I told him, you asked me to do this.  Do you want me to stop?

No!

Well, you yell at me correct you, but you want me to do it.  How do you propose to fix that?

He started cursing me.  [I have decided, on my own, I will not be correcting him anymore, especially with the drinking.]

I turned off.  I have the ability to shut off, not to receive anything thrown at me.  I hear it, but I don't accept it.  I go deadpan.  I don't show any emotion - because that's the harvest.  That's the bonus.  The goal of the whole project is getting me upset so they can point a finger and say "SEE!"

I have gone this route before, and not just with Ron.  It took me a long time to figure out; just like the movie War Games - the only way to win, is not to play.  

So, I don't. 

I got to listen to about 20 minutes of verbal abuse, called a bitch, POS, and "protoplasm hunk".  He was very upset I wasn't reacting.  He finally stomped off to his room for a while, made some cracks. 

My favorite "Don't bother calling your Dad.  He's dead."  [My stepmother inadvertently called Ron's phone earlier, and sent him a text later saying they'd be out of town tomorrow.]

Everything, Ron insisted, everything wrong in his life is My Fault.  He ordered me to "Go take the bus tomorrow and stay gone all day." 

Oh, he's ordering my schedule?  More than he does already?  [rolleyes]  Still didn't react, he gave up and left me alone. 

Now he's back in the kitchen, drinking again I presume (drinks 5-8).  I hope I'm wrong.  Hope, when he's done, he just goes to sleep, but I'm not counting on it. 

Most likely, he will do the whole sad-eyed "Why can't we get along?" thing, wherein he expects me to "keep the peace" by "admitting" everything that happened was entirely my fault, and he was completely justified responding the way he did "Because you hurt my feelings". 

The last time I told him about the 7 times 77 thing, he said thank you, and meant it. 

Will I play the whole "It's all Heather's fault", game?  No.  I will just say I'm sorry he got upset, that was not my intent, and I won't correct him again. 

He truly thinks it is OK to call me a b- c- whore, a slut, a cat molester, a child abuser, the most vile things you can imagine - because he got his feelings hurt.  It goes to the whole narcissistic personality thing.  They are "very sensitive". 

That, in my opinion, is their problem. 

In his mind, any emotional "injury" is an unspeakable insult, and requires a corresponding response.  So he hauls out his "arsenal" of verbal abuse and wonders why I seem so distant. 

He even said it's my fault he gets angry at God.  If I were a better wife, he said, he wouldn't get so angry at God.  So, he concluded, it's my fault.   He knows I get tired of hearing him complain about God. 

He's fumbling around for weapons.  God made it clear Ron's relationship with God, is just that - their relationship.  I have nothing to do with it, outside of praying for Ron every day.  

But, oh, I get tired. 

I did find it ironic.  Ron kept yelling at God, saying he wanted God to take me so "I can have a better life, and a better woman, not this stupid fat bitch". 

Better be careful about that, I thought.  God has a way of answering those things.  I don't plan to leave but God could very well take me. 




Butt Soda Explosion

Youtube, apparently hates my video camera, the microphone, or both.  Hecho en Chine. 

I did not sleep well last night, I barely had the energy for a shower this morning.  I staggered off to the store, Ron and the rolling ice chest in tow. 

The "shop" was pretty unexceptional.  They were out of Sprite, again.   When I was a kid, I used to love Sprite.  Sorry,  customers, I tried. 

My cashier took her sweet time ringing me up, but she was accurate and didn't abuse the merchandise.  A gay cart attendant helped me load the truck. 

I don't care who he sleeps with, he did a good job.  I later dealt with a gay customer.  It was just my day for the gay, black, man.  They walked away happy, so I guess I did a good job. 

We got to work.  Ron was whining about being thirsty.  I finally told him "Look, I'm the one unloading this truck, and you want a cold soda?"  He said he wanted it anyway.  He told me later he had eaten some very salty chicken last night (something from the Walmart deli). 

I tie the two handcarts together, like a train.  Then I strap the folding handcart across the top of both, with tie-downs, making a large and unwieldy beast. 

I couldn't hold a soda, and it would have fallen off the cart, so I stuck one in each of my back pockets, mine (Diet Dr) and his (Gingerale).  As I came out the door, the cart got stuck, and I yanked it.  The cart slammed into my butt, and my can exploded all over my butt. 

Happily, it was sugarfree, and it was so hot the fabric dried pretty quick. 

I gave Ron his soda, telling him "This is the last time".  He pouted a bit but enjoyed drinking it down. 

I unloaded the truck, with his help.  He gets into the truck bed and pushes the lighter stuff to me.

I loaded all 3 carts, got them in the building, and got Ron into the building too.  Our driver left.

It was interesting.  He was mentioning having some leg pain, recently.  He is diabetic.  Today he mentioned having orange juice for breakfast.

I want to tell him to get a nerve conduction test for neuropathy, but is it my business?  He's the kind of guy who just takes whatever doc gives him, up to 10 prescriptions already.  The popular medication used for neuropathy might render him an unsafe driver.

I need to think about that for a few days, and talk to Ron.

I had mentioned, in front of the driver, how Ron hadn't complained yesterday, and how I'd mentioned I "wanted to keep him" in my blog.  Ron looked very taken aback.

Funny, the comments that end up impactful.

We got to work.  It was pretty uneventful.  They REALLY like what I'm doing in the snack department.  I made a lot of change.

One guy came up to me, sputtering with rage.  I took one look at him and directed him to Ron (Ron wants me to do this).  I saw him gesturing and exclaiming loudly.

Last week, we had asked him if he might be interested in driving for us.
On Saturday.
We would call first.
As-needed, not right now.

He misunderstood and apparently went to 2 different Sam's clubs, before they even opened, looking for us - on a Sunday.  That was awkward.  We never told him to do that. 

"I think" I told Ron after he left "You should proceed as though he has an audio processing issue."  Ron agreed.

One woman was off in a corner, pointing at me and yelling "Toxic".  I just ignored her.

She came over and picked up my box of donuts.  They come 12 packs to a case.  She was looking all over the box, and caressing it with her hands.

Her body language clearly said "I want to eat every last donut".   She, however, was raving about "toxic food".

I looked at her and smiled brightly "I sell two cases a week." 

What???

"People love them.  I'd have hell to pay if I didn't stock them."

You need to...

"Whenever we put out 'healthy food' it just rots in the machine.  These will be gone in 2 days.  People here are grown and can make their own choices."  She sputtered a little, but the box down, and left.

I made sure to present bright an cheerful, as she was likely looking for a confrontation with the evil vendor.  I like to defy expectation.  I couldn't have been nicer.

Well, I could have been if I'd given her a donut.  But I don't give away the store. 

I helped Ron, got all the "leftovers" put up, and helped Ron pull change.  I put all the carts away and we left. 

We had to wait about 20 minutes, but other than that it was good.  I was so tired I almost fell asleep on the way home.  When we did get home, I crawled into bed for a short nap. 

God only knows what the rest of the day, will hold. 




Friday, August 28, 2015

I sure liked him

"That's not suspicious at all" I sniped, as the customer in front of us finally left.  She'd attempted to use a debit card without knowing the pin number.  She must have "borrowed" it, at one point she was asked if she had used it in a successful transaction and said "It's not mi-" before stopping herself. 

That was yesterday, at Walmart.  I forgot to mention that. 

The cats are good, Gravy just came by to say hello.  They've been wanting more canned food, which I'm happy to provide. 

Nausea is still pretty bad.  I think the aspirin I'm taking for my headaches irritates my stomach, and the meds come along and aggravate it.  I'm chugging a lot of pepto. 

I read recently I can cook lentils in a rice cooker.  I have a rice cooker.  I'm thinking it might be interesting to try cooking lentils + rice in the cooker, on a timer.  That, I can do.  It won't hurt the lentils to soak a bit, either. 

I plan to try, at least. 

We went to the bank today, we did a one-way on paratransit.  The goal was to ride the bus home. 

"I'm going to be positive today" he told me "And not complain."  I was shocked.  Did someone call him?  

Ron wanted to buy a fannypack from the mall, which we did.  Then he wanted Taco Bell.  I remembered it on Greenspoint drive somewhere around Benmar.  After about a mile of pushing, literally, Ron in the wheelchair, still not complaining, I couldn't find it. 

The bus company and the mall company landscaped the whole area around the transit center, which included putting in a huge, impenetrable, hedge, right before you get to the Beltway.  I literally could not find the store. 

I apologized to Ron (still not complaining), turned around, and took him to Jack in the Box.  Last week, I had some trouble with mud on the north side of Greens road.  Now it was thick sand.  It made for hard pushing, let me tell you! 

I took a page out of Ron's book and didn't complain, not that I would have, anyway. 

We went in the store.  Ron doesn't like to eat in public for various reasons.  Not usually, at any rate. 

I got a sourdough Jack and curly fries.  They were as good as Arby's, and that's saying a lot!  I was really impressed.  "Jack really stepped up his game" I mumbled, around a mouthful of burger.  "Good" Ron said tenderly "I'm glad you like it". 

I don't know which Ron I got today but I sure liked him. 

We ate.  Ron didn't want to take the bus home.  He did complain a little talking about it.  He decided to call someone to give us a ride, for pay. 

He did that. 

Ron got a little annoyed at one point, when I helped a disabled old man get a soda.  "Ron" I told him "He saw me helping you.  He accurately figured I would help him, too."  I didn't mind.  He was nice and said thank you. 

Our ride came.  Ron whined a little about missing Taco Bell.  Our driver took us there.  I literally missed it by 100 feet.  I was pretty embarrassed, but if they didn't have the big hedge, I'd have seen it. 

Ooops.  We got our driver some food, and Ron did eat a burrito.  He got a couple more to go. 

We went home, put away the food and wheelchair, and I took a nap for a couple hours.  I had a really strange nightmare and was happy to wake up. 

I went in Ron's room to find him lying in bed with my cat curled up at his side.  I'm not sure which one's the traitor, or both.  Both, I think. 

I did my God Time (got my shower this morning but missed God), and Torbie came and visited.  She has a set of needle-sharp claws on her, let me tell you.  She likes to give "the massage" complete with digging said claws into my flesh.  Ouch.  I petted her, she purred, I hung out with God. 

Jesus said "Where two or more are gathered", I always like to think of Him sitting there petting Torbie, too. 

We finished up and I got online.  Tomorrow is truck day.  It is my hope to clean off "my" counter in the kitchen and make room for my rice cooker. 

For whatever reason, meat tends to make me nauseous these days. 

Thursday, August 27, 2015

The last stop on Veteran's

We were supposed to work last night; but Ron decided he would rather stay home and drink.  No one knew of our plan. 

I thought it would be fun for the night shift to see us for a change.  Yes, probably a little drama but overall fun, I thought.  It's good for the customers to see us working.  They like to know we work to provide their snacks, and their snacks make a living for us, too. 

I thought it would be best to keep Ron busy, so we went to Walmart in the morning.  We didn't have very long but it got us out of the house.  I let him know I was still significantly depressed, and he knows it's better to keep me busy. 

I got my shower, and God time, both days, so yay me.  I even stripped the bed and washed the sheets and bedspread. 

For me, that's monumental. 

Ron "tries" to start drinking after 12, but not on his day off.  He'll start the minute he gets up on our day off.  However, we were working, right? 

I will admit the idea appealed - if we worked, Ron "couldn't" drink until after we got home that night.  He decided he would rather cancel work. 

I wish I could say I was surprised. 

I did decide, after a short nap and horrific nausea, I didn't have to stay home and watch him do it.  So I went out on the bus. 

They have a Giant Dollar on Veteran's.  My local bus goes on Veteran's, now.  The former Giant Dollar lived a couple miles up the street and had an amazing selection.  I was pretty eager to check it out. 

It was hugely disappointing. 

I have problems with traffic.  Anxiety at the best of times, and outright panic attacks at my worst.  God is good, though, I only had a panic attack, once, on a Bible Handout, and Ron was with me.  It was a pretty unsafe (not the area, the traffic) area, anyway, and I never went back. 

In regular life, my anxiety issues are variable and dependent on the street, and my caffeine intake.  I had thought I could "run across Veteran's at the light" because they had a pedestrian crosswalk and light. 

As I stood by the street, waiting for the light to change, I kept thinking, "I've seen 3 people hit by cars, and two of them were on Veteran's".  It was a horrific sight, the first, a woman rolling on the ground, holding her clearly-broken leg, the second just a bloody shoe lying in the road as they loaded the guy on the stretcher.  And Ron of course.  I told God I was sorry, I felt like a failure doing it, but I was going to back track to the last stop on Veteran's and ride the bus across. 

See, my bus goes down Veterans.  I got off at the last stop, before it turns left and crosses the street, going down Gears.  The "fun" Vietnamese grocery store is on Gears.  After my disappointment, I at least wanted to get some tea. 

I doubled back to the last bus stop on Veterans and "my" bus came along about 3 minutes later.  Excellent.  Leaving home, I'd literally seen the bus I had missed, and waited 20 minutes on the next one.

I felt God had just validated my decision.  Some things, I just can't do.

Some things, just aren't smart to do!   I disembarked and crossed Gears (it was nearly as busy, and just as wide, but I felt far more comfortable). 

I crossed the parking lot and headed into the store.  I know they are in a bad area, and experience a lot of shoplifting.  I had one of my shoulder totes, with some merchandise from the Dollar store.  I didn't want to make them uncomfortable, so I offered to leave my bag at a register.  They laughed and waved me past. 

I got profiled.  :p  I had fun looking at the vegetables (I didn't have an insulated bag, and it's been in the high 90's with sun, so no way to do that), and fruit.  I bought some "French Cookies" that, not only were individually wrapped, were absolutely divine (and very reasonably priced).  I was thrilled when I tried them. 

I looked at the rice and got some "Black Sweet Rice".  It is apparently a dessert rice.  I bet it would be really good in my rice cooker with a little dried fruit. 

I also got a box of FooJoy decaf green tea.  I like how they wrap the 100 count into 3 separate packages, inside the cardboard. 

I've been having some palpitations and I figure decaf is the way to go.  I told Ron about it, and also said, I don't want us to spend a lot of money checking it out.  The way I figure, I'm crazy.  I have anxiety issues, 98% odds it is psychiatric in nature.  He agreed. 

I am not concerned, because I have "the problem" when I am at rest.  If I'm working, unloading a truck, or today, loading 10 cases of bottled drinks on and off a cart, into and out of a fridge, a lot of heavy lifting in a very short period of time, with no problem.  It's not happening on exertion.  So I have chosen not to worry about it. 

Palpitations can also be a side effect of my medication.  Like I said, I don't want to undergo a lot of testing only to be told "It's all in your pills".  I'm not stopping my lithium. 

I paid and came home.  I really like how they expanded my bus route. 

Ron had agreed to work early today, so we did that.  We had a lot of catching up, having left it a day longer than I like.  At one point Ron said God had given him a "Bad helper" because I couldn't help him on demand - my hands were full. 

I did get all my work done and helped him significantly with his. 

For instance, with the canned sodas Ron can feel the interior of the machine and determine what needs stocking.  Each machine has 8-10 columns.  We have everything stacked in sequence so he can find the sodas on his own (!).  He will load them into his lap (he uses a wheelchair at work) and then stocks from the wheelchair. 

The bottled drinks are trickier.  We don't have space for them, so they live on carts and on shelves in our tiny stockroom.  Ron can get drinks out of the fridge, he has them in a sequence. 

I, however, have to get the replacement drinks, and put them into the fridge. 

I did this: I looked at the bottled machine while he did canned soda.  I saw he needed about 10 cases.  I got my handcart (empty, now that I'd finished snacks).  I went and got the warm replacement drinks, before heading out to the fridge (why make 2 trips?). 

I put the warm drinks on the floor, and loaded the cold drinks on the cart.  Then I placed the warm drinks into the fridge.  This is why I say, if I had a bona fide heart problem, I'd know. 

I then dragged the cart over to Ron, who had just opened the bottled vendor.  He was panicking over all the stocking until I presented him with the cartload of cold soda. 

I was the most wonderful woman in the world, after that.  He was so glad he'd married me.  [giggle]  Well, I like to help when I can. 

However, no one's ever called in a complaint over an empty soda machine.  They get VERY upset about snacks, though. 

We were both happy, when we left.  We went home and took a nap.  Then we went to Walmart. 

I forgot to buy my timer.  Dang it.  The kind you plug into the wall, it will turn on your electronic device at a certain time.

I did get a few other things.  Ron would like me to try some split pea soup, when the weather gets colder.   I left the store happy.

Ron paid for my items.  I wasn't expecting that. 

I guess he was still happy I "saved" him earlier.






Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Flaming Hoops

I didn't sleep well last night.  Probably a combination of neuro-wierdness and too many caffeinated painkillers. 

I woke up around 4.  Ron was awake.  I told him I really didn't feel like going to Walmart (now that's a statement).  He agreed and cancelled the trip. 

I went back to bed and woke up around 7:30.  I did my God Time, ate, and watched some TV.  I wrote a blog, I talked to my aunt on the phone.  I took a nap.  When I woke up, Ron was up. 

I was treated to quite the spectacle.  Ron chugging on a huge bottle of whiskey (I think), holding it in his mouth for a while, and then spitting it into a cup full of ice. 

Years ago, I made the mistake of telling him most alcohol is absorbed through the mouth.  He had me do research, and I told him.  On the plus side, he never has any gum disease issues, like I do. 

He accepts it when I tell him his "two sips" (two mouthfuls he means) really equal eight ounces (it measures that on the plastic cup), and nearly FOUR "drinks".  He continues. 

He called some old friends while I did some work in the bedroom.  They kept asking him if he was drunk, how much was he drinking, stuff like that.  He slurred he was perfectly sober. 

If you're lying to your friends about your drinking...

I don't ask, or monitor, per AA suggestions.  I don't panic, either.  I just asked him if he could move over so I could get at the sink. 

He went back to bed, I did my work in the bedroom, and hung out on one of my favorite message boards. 

When I called Walmart about a Handout, they told me (store manager said) I would have to come in, meet with the personnel manager, fill out some paperwork, file something with the City, etc. 

Why do I have to file something with the city? 

I explained, again, I am not seeking money.  I simply want to distribute Bibles to the willing. 

Sorry, he told me, same rules for everyone. 

Now I am faced with the question: do I jump through these flaming hoops?  Or do I focus on the ghetto/prostitutes, etc? 

Good question.