Sunday, December 21, 2014

Out through the bars

I didn't sleep well last night.  When I woke up, Ron was asleep. 

I did my shower and God Time.  Ron woke up; same old negativity. 

I found it interesting, on a Christian message board someone had posted this: 
For me the best advice to give to a professing Christian going through it is to tell them to work as hard as they can NOT to sin.... mental, emotional, physical, spiritual, and monetary abuse. Same thing for yelling, screaming, fighting, lying, and any other plans for attack.

Sin.  Hm.  I need to hear that Ron is sinning (I am dead serious).  I mean, they could have been writing Ron out to the letter.

Anyway, I fought a rising tide of frantic desperation.  I felt trapped.  I had to get out!  I also recalled the recurring advice I'm given - go out and do something fun by myself. 

I felt like a prisoner, looking out through the bars.  

I was also pretty depressed.  I figured, where would I like to go?  What's the busiest place I can go?  That was easy.  Walmart. 

I am near three Walmarts.  I prefer the older one. 

I decided to do some cleaning, first, while I had the energy.  I filled a whole trash bag.  At some point I need a large box so I can start work on a donate box.  Some things, I clearly don't want, like two blankets that belonged to my evil grandmother, and some other unwanted items.

I also have a lot of Medium clothes.  I am not getting anywhere near a medium soon - I am currently a 2X.  I think I can let them go, and replace them in the happy event I got to Mediumworld.

Hell, if I got down to a medium, Ron would hand over his credit card.   He would buy me whatever I wanted. 

I told Ron I was going out.  He kept telling me he could take me tomorrow but I told him I wanted to go today.  Yes, I was fine paying for a cab.  No, I wouldn't take the bus (that would have taken hours each way).  He fought me like I was meeting another man. 

I told him I WAS going, and he could either call me a cab, or I could call one for myself.  He called. 

About that time the yard guys showed up.  We paid him extra last time, for this visit.  I would rather pay him for the next visit, every time he comes, than ever be accused of this: 
Indeed the wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, cry out; and the cries of the reapers have reached the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth.

A lot of itinerant workers, and those of dubious immigration status, end up getting screwed over by their employers.  I won't be one.

Ron was convinced the guy was going to say the payment was for this visit, even though we paid for that last time.  I told him, worst case, he did a yard cleanup that would have cost hundreds, for free.  If we have a $30 misunderstanding I'm OK with that.

Of course the guy remembered, and I told him this money is for next time.  He's fine with that.  I think he finds me a little odd.

Hey, he can buy his family something.

About that time the cab showed up.  The driver was muslim, with the book "quaranic advice" sitting proudly in the console.  He asked about my husband, which led to the old "Amazing things God has done with my husband, whom He literally brought back from the dead" testimony.  He was pretty agog.  I also gave him a generous tip.

It costs $14 to go to Walmart.  Each way.  You can see why I never took a cab before when money was tight.

But, if I have the disposable cash, and spending it will ease my life, I don't mind spending it - even though I am amazingly cheap in many ways.  I see it as supporting the cab driving service provider. 

The store wasn't too busy. 

I had to laugh at myself as I found myself on the soup aisle, buying cup-a-noodles for the customers.  I spend 30 cents each, they pay $1.  I also got some shelf stable meals. 

The meal is good for over a year, which works great in my "other" food machine.  I have thrown away a lot of sandwiches because people don't see it as a "real" food machine.  It's off in a corner next to coffee and mainly sells a lot of my K-cups. 

I need to carry food, and I want to carry food in case they buy out the sandwiches.  So, I carry vienna sausage in a can ($1), cup-a-noodles ($1), "lunch buckets" of ravioli, spaghetti, etc. ($1.75), applesauce (75 cents), and my luxury item - the shelf stable meal for $4.  They have their choice of pot roast and mashed potatoes, turkey and dressing, etc.  Really nice meals.  Since I have seen them bringing in $20 a plate takeout meals, I figure some of them have the cash, and I'm right. 

In addition to the sandwiches, I also carry chicken corn dogs (very popular with the no-beef-or-pork crowd), for $1, steak burritos for $1.75 (popular with middle aged contractors), and a limited selection of frozen sandwiches for $2.25.  I'm pretty proud of my food selection, and I love how most of it is non-perishable.  If they want to buy it in a day, or two months from now, it's ready.  If the machine goes out of order, they're still good. 

I do have to throw out the burritos, hot dogs, and sandwiches. 

I had to laugh at myself, looking at the noodles occupying over half the cart space.  I am so dedicated it borders on foolish!   Ron waffles between admiration and outright mocking.  I don't care, I answer to God. 

I needed to get some pintos.  I decided the one pound bags, in addition to being a better value, offered more versatility in storage.  I selected some flax oil, because it had lots of Omega 3's.  Supposed to be good for depression. 

No, EPA and DHA are good for depression.  Flax has ALA Omega 3's.  Good for the heart, not for depression.  I put that back. 

Suffice to say, when I'm depressed I don't worry about my heart.  

After some internal debate, I decided I would like to start taking the fish oil (good omega 3's) today.  Yes, I have some coming sometime, hopefully this week - but do I want to be depressed for a week if I can get ahead of it?  Especially as the fish oil cost about the same as the flax stuff I was so eager to buy earlier? 

I put it in the cart. 

Ron (and I) wanted snack foods.  I got him enough to hold him for a while (he had given me some cash).  He wanted 18 oz, total, cat treats.

He was worried about flavors.  I reminded him they like anything by Temptations.  I have never seen them reject a Temptations treat.

Torbie, however, totally detests any sort of healthy, meat-based treat.  

Ron got beef jerky (because he needs more protein).  I remembered I had my jerky, just now (I had opened it to give Ron a taste).  I am munching as I type, because God knows I can use more protein. 

I looked around for some more chocolate candy, but it's all Valentine's now.  I got some Safeguard soap because my current bar of antibacterial is almost gone. 

I have forgotten, a few times, I need to use the antibacterial stuff, with my skin problems.  For this .  If you scroll down to "triggering factors" lithium is specifically mentioned, however I still had a few problems, now and then, even before lithium.  It's one reason I use a "lets me sweat non stinky stuff" deodorant stone as opposed to an antiperspirant - I had terrible problems until I figured it out and switched this year. 

Like I don't have enough problems, huh?  [grin]  Anyway, mine is pretty well managed.  I take generous amounts of vitamin E and A.  I use the deodorant stone.  I only shave when I have to.  And outbreaks are greatly reduced when I use antibacterial soap.  All easy enough. 

I got some more vacuum seal freezer bags - I got one with a pump recently, and I've been really impressed.  I want them to keep making these. 

Ron and I couldn't find the canning jar lids - the plastic ones you use after you have opened the jar, while you keep it in the fridge.  I couldn't find them but I did get a couple cheap units of stainless silverware.  They even match. 

That cost about $5 for 4 sets each of fork, knife, spoon.  I also got a package of standard canning jar lids. 

I like to eat a protein bar at work, on Truck Day.  I remember it's important to get protein after "lifting weights".  Unloading a truck load of heavy bottled drinks certainly qualifies!  They even had my favorite flavor, French Vanilla.  They aren't cheap but I like them and they don't cause any problems.

I bought a package of plain butter cookies, and some plain shortbreads.  I should be OK eating one or two of those now and then.  I also got some decaf french vanilla for dunking.

I looked around the store, the ruckus of screaming children and blaring speakers still better than what I'd left, looked around a little more, and decided I was done.

I did/do worry about shopping as a "fix" for emotional stresses.  I don't want to go that route, but, at the end of it, I did need those things for work.

Before I checked out, I did select a "Limited Edition!  Spiced Eggnog" airfreshener.

I checked out and called Ron to see if he wanted something from McDonald's.  He did.  I got some chicken nuggets (I don't care, I like them!), and his items.

Then he called a cab for me, but he was so drunk he didn't realize it.  He told me to call.  I did.  "Oh!" the dispatcher said, true empathy in his voice.  "I, ah, spoke to your husband and put in the request already."  His voice carried a lot of understanding.

I'd like to get to the place where I'm not embarrassed by my "alcoholic family member".  But I am.  I don't want to be married to the town drunk.  I am fine with being married to the town cripple, but the drunk, too?

It makes me want to hide under my desk.

Lately, since he got some margarita mix, he has been absolutely obsessed with buying "Margaritaville".  Do you know what that means for me?   Endless repetitions of a song I HATE, played at high volume, again and again as Ron drinks his margarita mix.

Many "drinking songs" are really "ode to the alcoholic blackout".
The Everclear Song - which I have heard far more than I ever wanted. 
Margaritaville - another blackout song. 

These are just the two that come to mind off the top of my head. 

I was starting to wish I'd gone somewhere, like the mall, where I could stay all day. 

When I got home I was treated to the sight of a drunk, filthy, Ron, sitting in his walker, waving money (and a tract) in the air as he sat in the open doorway.  Frankly, I don't see how he made it to the door. 

He was slurring his words and the driver began backing up.  I sighed and gave him an apologetic look, but he wouldn't meet my eyes.  I don't blame him.  He escaped quickly. 

Ron sat in his wheelchair, mumbling drunkenly, attempting, I think, in his own way, to welcome me home.  He did get out of the doorway. 

However, the yard looked FANTASTIC. 

I put my stuff away and gave him his food, hoping it would soak up some liquor.  He chided me about "wasting money on a cab when I would have taken you for free" and I bit back my retort.

Something like, I would have bashed my own brains out, or done myself other harm, if I had to sit in the house with you drinking yourself stupid one more day....


He ate his food and fell asleep, and I took a nap (the neighbors were gone, so it was a safe bet).  I had a pretty good one, with some very weird dreams, but when I'm stressed I try to hide in sleep. 

I got up, did this... now I will try to stay busy until about 7:30? 

Why then?  My neighbor has sprinklers that hit the side of my house.  They cycle for about 10 minutes, and end at 7:25.  I find that upsetting. 

Hey, that, and the rare loud party are my only problems, and his wife said my cat "is cute". 

I can work with that. 


Saturday, December 20, 2014

I want to be left alone

I woke up depressed.  I slept really horribly last night.  I suspect my heated mattress bad is the culprit. 

I also woke up with a headache.  What did I do?  I took a shower and went to work. 

Well, I went to the warehouse.  The first driver made a tremendous amount of noise, in front of the house, backing up (loud beeping), "accidentally" honking the horn, "accidentally" leaving the door open with the radio turned up very loud, etc.  AFTER I informed them #6 had a newborn.  I also "casually" mentioned, I would give the neighbors the complaint number so they could call in complaints "if someone" woke them or the baby up.   I will do that. 

She left the our house pretty quick after that. 

One or two things, I might have attributed to "6-AM-on-a-Saturday-morning".  All if it together, combined with a smug "Oh, did I do that?  Sah-ree!" attitude told me she was playing games. 

She also played "Oh, did I take the wrong turn?" (several times, even though they are issued a GPS and she said it was working - the smirking pretty much told the whole story), took "the scenic route", all the while watching me in the rear view mirror -ugh.  I didn't give her what she wanted. 

I just acted bored and ignored her.  After passing the warehouse, (blandly "You missed it" - with a yawn), going past the turnaround spot, going down 3 more turnaround spots (like I said, trying to provoke us), and finally coming back, then starting to pass the entrance  - I did mention "You can stop here".  Blandly, of course, because she was trying to get me upset. 

I have dealt with a lot of bullies and game-players in my day.  Ugh. 

Why do you want to drag me into your petty internal dramas?  What did I do? 

Do they think "Oh, you're happily married and you live in a 'nice' subdivision?  I'm going to crap on you?"  It it a racial thing?  I don't know if they do this to the black clients.  Come to think I have never seen them do that to black clients. 

At any rate, I got Ron setup and got my flatbed cart.  I have been very happy with the shiny new carts. 

I loaded up on inventory.  I got everything on Ron's list, except for Big Red.  He had hysterics.  I told him I didn't think our friend would want to wait while I stood there waiting for a manager to do a floor search for inventory.  I mentioned I didn't see any tags, the planogram had eliminated it, and I was 99% certain they did not carry it anymore. 

Ron had a tirade.  I reminded him they are going crazy for the green tea, perhaps we could put more green tea in the big red spot?   He agreed, and I got more. 

I finally got over to "my" area.  More lunch buckets.  More pastry.  More coffee products, they are working a lot of overtime.  More snacks.  I figured plain Lays, Cheetos, hot, and "big chips" - larger bags.  Just to name a few.  I also got some candy, including the gummy worms.  And the assorted peanuts.

When I got to work, I was down to my last bag of gummy worms, the peanuts, and some other items I'd bought.  First, though, I had to empty the truck.

I emptied the truck (our friend told Ron people were making coveting looks at my merchandise).  I got it all loaded onto my carts, and pushed the carts inside.

Ron (unwisely) decided to spend half an hour working on the bill changer.  Here's a question.  If all the vending machines are empty, ALL of them, why work on the bill changer?  It doesn't matter if they can get change if they have nothing to buy!

I focused on stocking my vending machines.  It took a while.

Ron was verbally abusive to me most of the day.  I'm sure he told himself he was "just stressed" and "busy".  I just heard him name calling and being ugly.

I didn't make excuses for him, either (unlike the past).  I just told myself "This is who he is.  He is showing everyone who he is."  He'd better be careful.  Some of the people at work are very opinionated and they will tear a strip off his hide if they catch him at it.  

It is probably "bad" for me to say I hope it happens soon.  One time Ron called me a "stupid bitch" in front of a deliveryman.  The guy ripped Ron up one side and down the other. 

It started with "She is your wife!  She is helping you!  She got up early to help you run your business!"  

I also concluded I may have been wrong.  A couple years ago, someone we knew told Ron he was "making (me) depressed".  I didn't agree at the time.

I've concluded the abuse certainly exacerbates the depression.  It doesn't cause the depression, that's just weird flashes in my brain.  However, being harangued for hours a day has got to have an effect, much as I hate to acknowledge it. 

I grimly set to work, doing everything, helping the customers, serving everyone with a smile and a great attitude.  I never forget they are paying the bills. 

I sold two bags of hot fries off the cart before I could even stock them. I put certain "iffy" items, that don't always fall properly, into the "magic vend" machine with the eye.  If the "eye" doesn't detect an item drop, it will send a message to the motor to keep turning until the item does drop.   I don't have to worry about an item like the hot funyuns, which hang frequently in the other machines. 

I also added more chocolate items, cookies, you name it.  I stocked it all.  I didn't get to do as many pastries as I would have liked, but I did do tons of coffee (more important, I figured, for all the overtime workers), and lots of cold food (corn dogs, lunch kits, cup-a-noodles, sandwiches, etc.).  All of it properly stocked and dated, of course. 

Ron also needed some help.  The bottled vendor was nearly empty, save some diet drinks.  I helped him stock the cold drinks out of our fridge, and put warm drinks into the fridge to chill for our next day at work. 

I also had to shelve a lot of items in the stockroom. 

Here's a photo:
As you can see, I do my best to take advantage of the vertical space.  The warm bottled sodas wait in here for their turn in the fridge, then they go to the machine.  The canned sodas can be stocked warm because they sit on top of dozens of cold ones, and chill quickly.  A "hot" drink will be cold in an hour.  If, for some reason, we are sold out, we will put a note on the machine "Coke cold after (2 hours from stocking just to  be safe)", but we haven't needed to do that. 

Here's another photo:
Cold food vendor.  Note all the cold food. 

This is Snack #3, the one with the magic  vend.  Also some inventory on my cart to the right there. 

There's our friendly neighborhood vendor in her back brace (boy I worked my back today, I'm glad I had it.).  You can see a Christmas tree on top of Snack #3 in the background (I have about a half dozen, differently colored trees). 

[Ron made a smartass crack when I told him a lot of people were "liking" the photo, making really ugly remarks about my weight and how could anyone like that. ]

I was pretty happy when we left; things looked a lot better.  About 90% of "ideal". 

We went outside and waited.  Our driver went past, slowly 4 times before figuring out we were waiting inside the only open driveway.  He's in the wheelchair, visible from the road.  You can see me waving (I made sure to do it languidly in case she was playing games) from half a mile off, according to the drivers.  Deliberately passing us up, 4 times, when we're easily found just reeked of (sigh) yet more game playing. 

Sure enough... but she had only been driving for a couple of months, according to her cab license.  I don't think she's going to last very long. 

Ron and I debated, as we waited, was she really "that" dim?   We were apparent, yet she drove by like she didn't see us, 4 times. 

Or, my theory, she was playing games.  I hoped that was the case. 

I really didn't want to ride with someone who could miss us (standing 100 yards from the road in plain sight, and waving no less) 4 times.  I'd rather assume she was trying to get us upset - and it is upsetting. 

I used to "present" upset, and the driver would yell at me.  Then the driver would get all smug "See, you do all treat me like crap".  Some kind of payoff for them if I'm upset.  I'm not sure how. 

Anyway, it really bothers them if I'm just doing the placid thing.  And I'm good at that after years with Ron.  She kept looking at me sideways. 

We finally got home.  I ate, took my meds, and took a nap.  I had a pretty good nap but felt fairly chilled.

Since Ron is a little less worried about money, he's been running the heater constantly.   It's like an oven.  It's ironic because he would have a fit if the house were this warm in the summer. 

My fuzzy slippers seemed to do the trick, though. 

I got sucked into some family drama.  My nieces' daughter is pretty depressed - this is ongoing.  But if I mention getting help she vomits up a platitude and puts on a happy face.  I am fairly worried about her.

I reminded her, she has seen my own battles with depression, and the only thing that helped was medication.  I told her I didn't know what would work for her, only her father (she does not live with her mother and reviles her) and a doctor could decide what might work.

I wanted her to know "I have depression too, but I have a good life with medication".

I tried to share this with Ron, and was viciously mocked: "I was so desperate for anyone to tell me it would be OK, it would get better, to hang in there just a little longer.  That other people felt this way too and had battled if for decades, and were victors".  That's what I would have said if he hadn't started mocking me.

I called him on it, then he turned it around "You can't fix people" and lectured me on the subject for over an hour.  I'll remind you it's "after 12" and he bought a couple big bottles of vodka today.  He went on endlessly.  I just tuned him out.  Asking him to stop would just provoke real ugliness.

I tried, a couple times, to explain that "sharing my struggles" and "giving someone hope" are VERY different from "fixing" someone.  Ron was always into "fixing" people.  I just want to cheer them.  Again, viciously mocked.

My niece (the reviled mother with many, many, dramas you wouldn't believe if I shared), got in there yelling at me saying I couldn't medicate her daughter.  I reminded her that only *her father* and *a doctor* could do so, and that "many dramas and a lot of un-necessary pain could have been avoided if unmedicated people in our family had taken things *as directed*".

I was mainly referring to my mother, but it also applied to her.  She knew that. 

I am dead serious.  You.  Would.  Not.  Believe. 

Probably wrong, but I use her life, and that of my mother, to remind me what would ensue if I stopped my medication.  Drama.  Endless drama. 

I have enough endless drama (Ron was just screaming at me because I told him he had lectured me for an hour).  "Why didn't you tell me to stop?"  I did.  Several times. 

"You have to tell me to stop".  I did, already.  "You have to be (really aggressive)."  Yeah, and you're going to feed on that and throw it back in my face, getting even more aggressive. 

"What do you want?" 

"I want to be left alone." 

He talks some more, asking what I wanted. 

"I want to be left alone."

I know that.

"I want to be left alone and you're still in the doorway."

What?  You want to be left alone now?  (How much vodka did he drink?)

"Yes, I want to be left alone right now!"

He's still sitting there.

"Now.  Not 10PM.  Not next week.  Now." 

Cue vapors, wounded martyr routine, and finally left.  

He had a tantrum, cancelled all his trips for tomorrow, got out of the doorway, but the house is small, so still yelling and having his vapors. 

Like I said, I have enough drama already. 

Friday, December 19, 2014

How it works

Depression, eating me alive. 

Days off are really bad for that.  I don't have the structure I do at work; so I'm glad I work tomorrow.  It's actually Truck Day. 

That will keep me plenty busy. 

Today I did alright, I got up.  Torbie, sleeping in my bed, kept poking me with a paw as she groomed herself.  I decided that ought to be my wakeup.  8 AM is plenty "late" for a woman who gets up at 4 and 5. 

I took a shower, did my God time, ate a muffin and took my pills.  I made the muffins last night.  They are pretty awful, dry and flavorless.  They do work for taking medication, though. 

I watched "Supernatural" - parts of it, and did a load of laundry.  I had already done the dishes from last night. 

Ron slept pretty much all day, and read a Nora Roberts book.  I was an avid reader my whole life, but my comprehension is pretty awful these days. 

Ron keeps suggesting books for me to read, and I keep reminding him that's not really possible anymore.  I can read nonfiction books, and fiction I've already read (I love to reread books), but new fiction is just "too hard". 

He won't accept it.  I think it upsets him that I have to make so many sacrifices to be "sane".  He doesn't like to think of me suffering in any way, so he just denies I have the problem.  He currently acts as though I "don't want" to read anymore. 

Pretty ironic, considering my grandmother was a librarian. 

He finally finished it tonight, and swears up and down it is "really good".  "Northern Lights" if you're interested.  He is pretty happy reading his Nora Roberts - he had them send him everything they had.  Well, 10 books at a time. 

I didn't do much.  I did manage a nap but I had a nightmare about a catastrophic accident.  I was pretty happy to get up. 

I am a little curious about #6.  He has a construction business, and has taken this week off.  Yesterday she went shopping for Christmas presents.  I could hear the front door banging open and closed with every trip to the SUV.  He stayed at home (with the toddler and newborn). 

I think things must be tight, she went shopping for groceries (yes, I am the original nosy neighbor, but I only noticed because she got home when I did), after the 15th (payday).  Went shopping for the Christmas presents also. 

So, if money's tight, why'd he take the week off?  The kids are out of school next week.  He took Thanksgiving week off last month, but then his wife was due at any moment. 

I admit, I would love (if I weren't depressed) to take a week off now and then, but that will never happen with our business. 

If money is tight, it does make me wonder why he is taking so much time off?  No jobs?  Or not looking?   Doesn't he have bills to pay with 6 kids, two cars, and a mortgage? 

I just hope I can get some sleep next week.  Hopefully the new baby will put an end to the worst of their antics. 

Usually, if they don't have a newborn, they have an all-night party on Christmas Eve.  It is a really awful tradition, in my opinion.  Christmas is about peace on earth, love, and reverence for Jesus.  It's not about getting drunk and blasting your polkas at maximum volume. 


So, I hope either 1.  Newborn baby or 2.  Bad weather will put paid to it.  Last year they were quieter than usual due to extremely cold weather.  They had to congregate in the house. 

I admit, I'm unreasonable.  I don't want to know my neighbors exist when I'm sitting in my house.  Stop laughing.  [snort]  I know, unreasonable. 

That's why I would have loved to live out in the country, but from what I have seen a lot of the lots (no pun intented) have a short distance between homes!  They have length, but not very wide. 

Anyway, I get very negative when I'm depressed.  God will work it out somehow. 

I'm just so tired. 

Today I was whining (internally) to God.  It's not fair.  I have so much, I can't take everything.  I had a thought, remembering that Omega 3's have a reputation for helping with depression. 

Well, Ron needed some glucosamine anyway, I went ahead and reordered, adding some good quality fish-oils to the mix. 

From what I read 2 grams a day of EPA should do the trick.  Always talk to your doctor, blah, blah. 

I'll let you know how it works. 

Thursday, December 18, 2014

"You always do!"

Last night, I had the thought: why not try to get ahead of the headache?  I wake up with it every day, hormonally - and I know this.  Why not take a painkiller beforehand? 

So, I took Aleve.  When I woke up early in the morning I took another dose. 

And, it worked.  I have to assume a couple aleve tablets a day are better than 6-8 generic headache tablets. 

So, I may have fixed that.  I pray so.  If this works I will need a bigger bottle of Aleve.  At least until my uterus dies. 

You know what I mean. 

It's all so pointless.  I'm not having kids! 

The lady neighbors might want another one or 2, but I don't want any.  I'm completely comfortable mothering 2 cats. 

By the way, Baby Girl does something adorable.  She's the stray kitten Ron found, about 2 months old, in the bushes, back in 2012.  I called her my 20th wedding anniversary present. 

She likes to climb on Ron's belly, as he lays in bed (he always sleeps in his clothes).   She begins to knead his belly, lowers her head, and latches onto some fabric, nursing away.  It's adorable. 

On a side note, since she was so tiny and cute I actually bought a bottle and some kitten milk, and tried to bottle-feed her.  She wasn't interested in the bottle, but she sure loves Ron for it. 

She is lying behind me, on the floor, right now.  For her, that's in my lap.  I appreciate the company. 

Torbie has been pretty awesome lately.  She's very cuddly with me, at night.  I enjoy positioning myself around her. 

The "new" bed continues to be awesome.  So glad I got it. 

I got my Christmas present(s) from Mom and Dad yesterday.  The mail lady left it in the locker.  The mail lady liked her present and left me a nice note. 

Yesterday, at Walmart, I found a really nice plush robe in my size.  I chose to make that my gift from Ron, and bought it.  Less than $20, I'll get a lot of use out of it, it's nice. 

I would have gone with black, but they were sold out.  So I went with bright red.  It's very cheerful. 

I woke up, pretty horribly depressed today.  I finally felt comfortable taking my antidepressant, and did so (if I take it too close to a headache it's catastrophic).  I also managed God Time and my shower (not in that order). 

I would probably take a nap, but the yard guy is coming in a while.  I don't like to get woken up. 

I may do some cooking, I'm not sure.  Ron was making "I want delivery" noises so I don't want to fill up. 

It's going to rain, so a Day Out is out.  Tomorrow looks to be worse. 

But I got a nice compliment from some customers yesterday.  A lady was watching me stock my snack machine (snacks are 100% my department).

I smiled at her, she smiled back.  "I try to have delicious treats for y'all" I said. 

"You do!" she grinned. 

"You always do." added a passerby. 

That made my week. 

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

I'm not sorry

Well, I probably set race relations back for a hundred years.  Ron, and two ignorant old ladies, now think I'm a total bitch. 

What did I do?

Well, let's start with me waking up with my curse-you-forever-menstrual-migraine at 5 AM.  On my sleep in day - so much for sleeping in.  It feels like a jackhammer at my left temple, radiating. 

I took my stuff and took a shower.  Wasn't up for God Time, I hope to get Him later. 

I couldn't take my antidepressant - it makes my blood vessels clamp down.  If I am battling a migraine, I go straight to vomiting and I don't get the antidepressant anyway.  Last night I took yesterday morning's dose. 

We got our ride to the store.  We rode around forever.  One client took forever coming out, and finally appeared as the driver was about to leave.  Note that. 

We (both of us, and the other client) got dropped at the Walmart. 

I went and did my shopping.  Mainly some Christmas stuff, jeans for Ron, etc.  My gifting features a lot of chocolate. 

I checked out, still feeling awful.  Ron wanted hot food.  I told him no, and reminded him yet again I had a migraine.  The last thing I wanted was to smell hot food. 


The other client finished her shopping and sat next to me.  I smelled an overpowering floral aroma.   I began to gag.  

I have increased sense of smell during a migraine.  This was physically painful. 

I got up and left, going outside.  She had used pomade in her hair.  I think that was it, as the stuff is highly fragranced.  Perhaps that, and/or some highly fragranced lotion.  Some people are obsessed with lotion, applying it every 10 minutes. 

Maybe both, I don't know. 

I was upset to see she was also riding in our vehicle.  After I loaded my stuff, I opened a few small ventilation windows so I wouldn't vomit. 

The windows are about 1 foot square, and provide a cross draft if needed.  I could still smell the product, whatever it was, on the other woman. 

Another client began having a tantrum when I opened a few windows (3 small ones).  "I'm going to freeze to death!  I can't handle that!" 

She outweighed me by a good 100 pounds, and I'm not slim.  She was also wearing a coat.  It was 60 degrees outside. 

I explained I could smell "some kind of cologne" on the vehicle, I found it "physically painful, like getting hit in the head with a hammer" and I needed the air so I "wouldn't vomit".  Both the old ladies had fits over that saying I was rude and worse. 

Ron got upset at them judging me and joined the party, calling me "An evil bitch" which they found vastly entertaining. 

I simply said "You're worried what the neighbors think?"  I could care less what two ignorant old women thought about my need for fresh air, especially when I had carefully explained it in a nonjudgemental way.  I could tell he was just feeding off their energy and backfeeding it to me. 

He stopped.  

"What do you smell?" Ron grilled me.  "I don't smell anything"

"I don't know what it is, but it was really strong when that one lady sat down next to me on the bench.  That's why I went outside.  It was physically painful." 

The old ladies mocked me "OH, it's so painful". 

Perfume lady accused me of saying she had body odor.  "No!" I replied.  "That would be A LOT better!"   She choked. 

I did my best to ignore them as they concluded that I was just a dominating bitch.  Whatever. 

And I'm rude? 

When "stinky" got off, I shut the windows.  I didn't need the breeze any more.  I didn't speak to the other woman and she didn't speak to me.  I didn't care. 

Stupid drama. 

Because I'm a Christian, I can't even wish a horrific migraine on them.  If they'd ever had a migraine, a real one, not a "Oh, I have a headache so I'll call it a migraine" - they would have been a lot more sympathetic. 

I have to figure God will correct them. 

As far as my end of things, I had to get the fresh air or I would have gotten sick.  I was in extreme pain smelling that stuff.  I don't think any kind person would wish that on me. 

If they're not kind, well I'll have to take care of myself. 

I'm not sorry. 

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

It ought to get you high

I really hope I'm not battling a fever, but it sure feels like it.  I taste, and smell, onions, too. 

Did I mention I hate onions? 

I just feel really crappy, chilled, and miserable.

I wouldn't be surprised if I am sick.  I have encountered several overtly sick people of late.  That's not counting the contagious, yet asymptomatic, people.  

Anyway, as the word of faith people say "I'm not claiming it".  I woke up with a headache.  I feel lousy.  That only means I am run down as of now. 

I got up, did everything.  We went to the warehouse.  I bought a lot of snack and drink inventory.  The green tea has been a runaway bestseller.  I got 5 cases.  People were buying it off the cart before we even chilled it. 

I helped the guy load the truck and we went to work.  I got the carts, tied them together and laid the big folding handcart on top.  Aha.  Now I got them all in one trip - much more efficient. 

I got everything loaded.  That took a while. 

I have to explain a little about work.  The cafeteria floor (our area) is white.  God only knows why - navy would have been far better.  The outside hallway is black. 

They wax both with special floor wax.  Yesterday they waxed the black floor.  Someone, apparently, walked across the fresh black wax and tracked it into the cafeteria. 

When we entered our area, our area had been cordoned off.  They were using stripper and a buffer to remove the stains. 

I thanked them for "making our area look better" - I meant it, and sat down.  I enjoyed a nice break.  Eventually they had a break in the activity and "let" us stock our machines.  We weren't ugly about it, even Ron didn't "bark", and we got everything accomplished while maintaining good will. 

The machines didn't need much.  That was a relief. 

I had enough time to stock, help Ron, verify all machines were working, put up my snack inventory, and mash up my cardboard.  Then we left. 

We came home, I still felt pretty bad.  Our driver on the way home is one of those cologne guys.  I had to put a couple windows down, in the vehicle, and hang my head out the window. 

I was just glad I got out of there before they applied the white floor wax.  That stuff is evil. 

"Something that smells so bad" I've said "Ought to get you high!" 

I ate a couple of hot dogs and took a nap.  I woke up with the taste of onions in my mouth, freezing cold, under 3 blankets.  I did have Torbie in my bed.

I'm hoping I can fight this off tonight.  

Monday, December 15, 2014

Delivery day

"Did you change your order last week?" my sandwich guy queried.  No, I replied.  "OK, good, because I was out all last week with the flu." 


After a quick "please God don't let him be contagious today" prayer, and a thorough handwashing, I went back to work,

I went to bed around 7:30.  I fell asleep pretty fast, happily.  Not so happily, Ron woke me up at 10 PM.  Not intentional but I was annoyed. 

I elected not to say anything today. 

I had to get up at 2 AM.  I sure didn't want to.  I thought about skipping my shower, then remembered all those cursed cysts.  They love it when I skip a shower - I have a freaking harvest a couple days later. 

I got up and took my shower, using my antibacterial soap (which does help).  Most of the current cyst crop are on their way out. 

I am sleeping a lot better, better quality, fewer wakeups.  I'm really glad I got that new bed base. 

After my shower, I did my grooming (not much, just brush my hair, ponytail, deodorant) and my God Time.  I was really pleased I managed it, I knew today would be a long day and I would probably miss it altogether if I didn't get it today. 

Then breakfast and medication.  I decided to try a Monster Low Carb today. 

I found it vile and revolting.  I wanted to drink the whole thing, but only managed, with effort, about a third. 

I won't be buying another one. 

We got our ride to work and arrived at 4.  I had most of my machines stocked by 5. 

As I left to get sandwiches (I meet him out front so he doesn't have all the security protocols), I saw the other guy's repairman entering.  He clearly expected me to let him in the building. 

Well, I wouldn't. 
1.  Security breaches led to my Dad's office being shot up when I was 13.  I would never be a party to that.  I don't let anyone in, period. 

2.  He overcharged us.  A lot.  

3.  He robbed us for years.  When I finally convinced Ron to change the locks (so Ron and I only had a key), the repairman fought Ron on it, kept telling Ron he didn't "have to do it".  Ron began to think I was right after all, but the clincher was the stupid story he was told about how sometimes the vending machines were wide open and the money gone.  All of us knew it was impossible for things to happen in that sequence.  Ron admitted I was right, we changed the locks, we only have the key, and all of a sudden hundreds more in our pocket every month. 

I don't actually revile many people.  Right now I would have to say that guy, and the guy who ran over Ron. 

So, I smiled nicely at him, and told him "I'm sorry, but I don't let anyone in. [explaining #1]"  I came out with my handcart and pulled the door shut before he could grab it, then headed off. 

I don't care.  He's not a good guy. 

We even have another backup on our repairman, should he become ill.  Happily we should never need to call him again.  The last time we did he made us wait 3 weeks, and our other guy was back in town. 

Then I ran into flu man.  Eep.  Please Lord don't let me get sick. 

We worked our asses off. 

Work was in mild hysterics, it's the busiest mailing day of the year, and they have VIP's coming.  They also have a news crew.  If I can find the footage I'll post it. 

I stocked everything - everything.  Our soda delivery arrived, a very nice Yoruba (Nigerian) man.  I greeted him in Yoruba.  He likes that. 

I always give the soda delivery guy a lunch, and I did. 

All done, things put away, we left.  We went home. 

We had a turnaround trip and went to Walmart.  I wanted to go to bed, but I needed various things.  We went, I had a pretty good trip. 

Ron was outraged they "cut my time", but I managed to get everything on our combined list (including deli takeout for Ron) check out (a really nice lady), and load everything into my plastic storage box.  Yay. 

We headed outside and our ride arrived promptly.  Thank you Jesus. 

The paratransit company has finally instituted a "package policy".  Basically, put up your own, modest amount of groceries.  No more 2 shopping carts full of little plastic bags, sitting on your ass, watching the driver put it away.  Some of the clients really take advantage. 

We have our guy with a truck for work, so that's not an issue for us anymore (praise God they didn't do this last year). 

We even had a straight ride - a lot of them today. 

We got home, I put up my things.  Oddly enough, #6 (the Mrs.) had left the same time we did.  She told me the baby is a girl. 


I find it cute, boy-girl.  boy-girl.  Now, boy-girl.  

We both arrived home at the same time.  I found that one a little odd. 

Ron had brought his walker to Walmart, so he got himself in the house as I got the groceries (3 bags).  I put away the cold things. 

I thought. 

I took a nap.  I had a good quality one, too.  I get a really good quality of sleep on my "new" bed. 

I woke up, and to my horror, found Ron's 2 packages of sausage in the cold (insulated tote) bag.  Ooops!  I put them in the freezer. 

Food safety says an item can't be at room temperature for longer than 4 hours.  I only slept for 2, and it was in an insulated cold tote.  The sausages are fine. 

When Ron realized I was awake he asked me about the sausage, and I had to tell him.  I would have preferred to refrain.  He was very nice about it. 

I need to eat (something high protein to help my immune system) and take my meds.  That's my primary function in life, taking my pills.  [sigh] 

I'm glad I have them but boy they come with a price tag. 

Sunday, December 14, 2014

I get tired

I have dreams for my blog.  In my dreams, people battling caregiver burnout, bipolar disorder, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, alcohol addictions, abusive relationships, born-agains, and the unreached all come together.  They are inspired and learn.

If nothing else, they walk away saying "At least I don't have it that bad". 

What I don't want: Ron is mean.  Ron is a jerk.  This what Ron did to me.  Ron is verbally abusive.  Ron is a drunk.  Ron is a manipulative narcissist. 

But, I ask myself, what if he is?  

I can't lie.  And I won't.  

Which leads me to sharing the bitter truth even when I'm sure it drives you nuts.  This is my message in a bottle.

I get tired.  Today, I'm exhausted.  I slept well.  I got my God Time.  I "only" went to church and came home.  I had some nice cuddles with the cats. 

Hours of Ron's complaints, tirades, and threats - before, during, and after. "I'll just cancel the trip right now!  How about that?!"   [I'm supposed to beg him to reconsider]

It's exhausting.

I wanted to say "Do I ask to be taken out to dinner?  No.  In fact, the only dine-out meal we've had (this month) involved $1.79 bacon cheeseburgers and a value fry, apiece.  Most guys would kill for a wife like that."

I could have said "Hey, I spent $85 on shoes, for the entire year.  $50 of that I spent on work shoes to help you run your business."  I could have emphasized my frugality in other ways.

Then I thought, why should I have to "defend" myself?  He should know this anyway - I know he does.    When he's feeling better, he thanks me for selecting the mega-flush toilet as my "expensive" birthday/anniversary present. 

And then the old thought: well, I'm a Christian.  I answer to God.  This shouldn't bother me. 

It does.  It bothers me a lot.  It bothers me that I spend nearly every minute "serving" Ron - investing all my highly limited energy, into taking care of his business, taking care of him, making sure he's happy.  I don't mind doing that. 

I do mind it when I ask for a couple hours on Sunday - not even every Sunday, and he screams like I'm shaving him bald. 

Full drama queen mode: I have to wait for half an hour!   Then what I'll call the martyr's droop, so others can see how he's suffering.  He assumes a "victim" posture so other people will come over.  Then he can share how I'm "abusing" him. 

As it was, he just acted like a jerk at church, turning his back on people when they asked how he was doing.  I thought it was awful, but it only reflects on him. 

"Why" he asked me, baffled "Is it such a big deal I'm using a walker?"  People kept complimenting his progress in using the walker, instead of his usual wheelchair. 

"They care about you" I replied sincerely "And they are happy you are getting better."  He started to speak "Even if it's just a little bit." 

He's depressed.  I get it.  Boy do I get it.  So am I!  But I take my medication.  I got medication.  I sought help.  He is in such denial he won't even see it.   I have begged him, begged him, to seek medication.  Other people in close contact with us agree Ron is severely depressed.  They have spoken to him as well. 

He's depressed, so he picks at me.  Plays manipulative head games.  Carries on so when I ask for small things, I don't want to ask for anything.  His behavior is often so repellent I don't want to spend any time with him at all.  Especially when he's drinking. 

On some level, I'm sure Ron knows something is wrong with our marriage.  He talks, at times, about "being a burden" to me.  He is, but not how he thinks. 

I don't care about the laundry.  I don't care about reading the mail or doing the yardwork.  I don't care about doing the heavy lifting at work - the way I see it I get paid to go to the gym.  I don't care about pushing him in the wheelchair.  He has never understood it is far easier than guiding him when he "walks"; but it's a huge deal to him. 

He won't get very far without me pushing the chair, but I'm here for the duration.

Which is why I DON'T get the verbal abuse.  I am here, I am the only one here for you.  I never, ever, say that to you (although he would, to me).  I just do whatever needs doing.  I ask for very little (see aforementioned value meal).  I have stayed when everyone else ran off.  Again, I have never said that.  But we both know. 

I don't care about the caregiving.

So why do you verbally abuse me about my weight?  It's not "I'm worried about diabetes, etc"  It's just ugly cutting down.  If I tell him I have lost weight he will make a comment like "Not enough".  He calls me his beluga.  You know, the whale?  He thinks it is cute and endearing.  I "let" him do it because it is somewhat less offensive than some of his other comments. 

Why carry on with all the drama when I ask for a ride involving God?  He had absolute tantrums the day of the Bible Handout (in front of the driver no less, haranguing the poor man), and today, because they weren't perfect trips.  If you won't do it, say no.  I will accept that, but saying you will go and then torturing me, and the driver - is just abuse.   It's deceitful to say you will go happily, and then to kick me verbally for hours, complaining bitterly the entire time.  Except when he was eating. 

Today he wore an absolutely filthy sweatshirt and pants to church because "You can't make me change".  Fine.  I'm not going to fight.  If you want to look filthy that's on you.

It's funny, because, prior to his accident, Ron was hyperconcious of my behavior in any setting, "correcting" me at home and raving how I'd "embarrassed him".  Ron has always had this issue with wanting the perfect woman, socially and in appearance, so she wouldn't embarrass him, so people wouldn't think less of him.

Now he's just the opposite, and I just think "Well, he's got wits enough to pay our bills, he can make his own choices.  I made a suggestion and I will leave it at that."   I'm not going to beat him down for it. 

His behavior has just gotten worse and worse, lately.  I have moved on from embarrassed to thinking "Go ahead and make yourself look like a jackass.  It just makes me look better that I stay." 

He only behaves at work.  Usually.  He is generally only appreciative at work. 

He was eating some of my bread today and asked me to bake more, which I was planning to do anyway.  I mentioned I had planned to add some dried fruit to the next batch. 

"No" he replied, his mouth full "Just the plain bread". 

Fine.  I'll do it because it honors God but boy do I get tired. 

Besides, I had planned to add a little soy flour to mine.  I'm sure he'd have noticed that.