Well, it's official. I have donated 23 units of blood. One more unit and I hit 3 gallons. Coolness. I also checked my cholesterol. It was 140 something. Then it was 136. It wasn't that today. No, it was ONE-THIRTY. That's the kind of number that got me life insurance for $8 a month. My iron level was also an AWESOME 43.
Ron has donated 2 gallons now. I think that is awesome. His veins are not great, and they can only use the one arm. His cholesterol was a nice 165. For an older guy who doesn't eat his veggies or take vitamins, I think it's great. Pretty easy to crow over those numbers.
So, what did I do today? It was a day off. I slept in 'till about 7:30, got up, played on the computer, did about half of my God Time, and took my shower. Ron and I cuddled on the couch for a bit and then decided "Let's go out."
He checked the bus schedules and I got the wheelchair. I made up plenty of Driver Candy. I only had one driver accept it, though. We saw "Papi" and I gave him a bag.
I got Ron in his chair and we rolled off to the bus stop. The bus came and we missed a transfer. Gah. The other bus was early!
We talked a bit and waited at the stop. Ron didn't know he had his recorder on the whole time, that was kind of wierd hearing us later.
We caught the other bus and headed off to KFC. Ron wanted to try come chicken, and I was curious to try the "Double Down". It is two chicken patties, with bacon and cheese in between. The poster had a photo of some icky looking sauce so I got it no sauce.
Ron hasn't been able to eat any chicken for a couple of years. The flavor turns on him, thanks to the allergic reaction he had to the Bactrim. Nothing good about Bactrim in THIS blog! [snort] Seriously, it has saved many people's lives. It has also "ruined" one.
It was cloudy and cooler, we had some mild rain showers. It's the edges of Alex. Hurricane rain bands tend to have a different pattern than our usual thunderstorms. The storms roll in, roar, dump rain, and move on. The bands just kind of hover and drop rain slower.
It was "sprinkly" - more than a drizzle but not a downpour by any means. Ron remarked repeatedly on it, he loved it.
After KFC, we went to Starbucks. I got a drink, he didn't. We drank it and then headed out to the bus stop.
We had agreed to go to the "pineapple" grocery store. They sell cut up pineapple. They also had Diet Dr Pepper and I was out! (cries)
So, we rolled on in and got the drinks and pineapple. We rolled on out and caught the bus. More pushing and we're home.
Ron could tell I was "running out of gas" so I laid down and napped for an hour. When I got up, I helped him mow the yard, figure out his MP3 player, and get rid of some cardboard in the garage. I also brought in the trash cans. Now I need to do various things, dishes, laundry, put away the clean laundry, etc.
That is not going to happen. Too tired. I will, however, make his burritos and freeze them. He wants some with eggs, and some without. "Burrito Surprise".
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Don't compare.
I think the majority of my pain in life has come from comparing myself to others. I used to call it "The Normal Stick". I felt like I could never measure up to the normal stick, no matter how hard I tried. I felt everyone was demanding I measure up and felt like such a failure because I couldn't.
I woke up with a pretty nasty headache. I took some Tylenol and felt better after a hot shower. I did my God Time, ate a little, and got ready to go.
Ron and I had a date at the Blood Center, after a trip to Burger King. Our ride was late and we had another pickup. The next pickup is a NOTORIOUS guy. I actually prayed out loud for God to fill him with kindness and love.
It worked. The guy came out, happy as a clam, the nicest fellow ever. Had I not seen this guy raving at two separate drivers I would have thought he was a different guy. Wow. I was glad I had prayed, out loud!
Off to Burger King. Mr Cheerful waved bye-bye as they drove away. Surreal.
I got my usual Burger King meal. Pretty nauseous right now, no details. Then, off to the Blood Center.
We got there a little early and I signed us in. Ron was "doing" whole blood, while I was doing platelets. They really get excited about my platelet count. They set things up for double platelets.
Have you ever had an experience, giving blood, where it just never felt right? That's what happened with me. A lot of drama, readjusting the needle (ow), and flashing alarms on the computer. They finally stopped about halfway through, they had gotten half of what they wanted but it was a standard sized platelet donation.
I looked at the old lady, and the big guy, in the other chairs. They were doing fine. They didn't have to focus on mashing the ball like it just insulted them. They didn't have any alarms, and their bags were filling beautifully. It was very hard not to compare, and even harder not to feel like a failure.
I consoled myself with the thought that they had a good portion of platelets, and high-quality ones at that. I had asked God to allow this donation to proceed if it was His will. Apparently, today His will was for standard platelets, not double. My vein rolled, according to the technician. Naughty vein.
Ron, in the meantime, went off to a room to be screened. He was in there a long time. They have to read him the questions (Have you been in contact with someone's blood?) and answer the form. Then checking the iron. Apparently Ron passed, because then it was leading him off to the "whole" chairs on the other side of the room. They had the manager stick him, and it was a great donation. He said he will request her from now on.
We rested for a little bit and waited on the ride. It came and Ron went home. The driver was a very nice guy we both like.
I went to Favorite Dollar and got some more candy and ziplocks. I go through probably 100 baggies a week, and a couple pounds of candy. I found some very cute patriotic tootsie rolls.
The cashier said "Oh, the CANDY LADY!" [grin]. I thought that was cute. I have been called, far, far, worse!
I handed out about 10 "items" today. I recently checked the crime map for our area and discovered multiple robberies at one bus stop; one I frequent. Not any more.
I went the other way and got some pop at a gas station (gotta replace those fluids!). I felt barely lightheaded for a few minutes, about 15 minutes after donating. Other than that I felt fine. My big problem was not using my right arm to lift anything. Not for 12 hours.
I carry a huge backpack, loaded down with Driver Candy and all. My shopping went into it, too. I carefully used the left arm only. My right arm had suffered enough for one day! Other than that, I felt the same as any other day.
So, I waited at a safe bus stop. Caught a ride to the sporting goods store. If I have a favorite clothing store; it's Academy Sports. I just checked a map, dozens of them in Houston. Safe to mention them! They have the cutest sporty clothes.
I read a great book ages ago, http://www.amazon.com/Fabulous-You-Unlock-Perfect-Personal/dp/0425146189 . Toni talks about figuring out your style type, and working it. I am a sporty with a romantic accent; I do equally well in workout apparel or a long, floaty dress. I have a very sporty haircut.
So, for me, a sporting goods store is hog heaven. Well, actually I couldn't shop there when I was bigger. How horrible when even the XL gets stuck halfway up my thighs! I used to dream of the day when I could shop there.
When I want a treat, I pick up an item or two. I recently got a decent wardrobe of microfiber t-shirts - they don't hang on me, all wet with sweat, in the heat. Today I wore a "regular" cotton t-shirt and it wasn't pretty.
I decided that the Medium is form fitting, a little more than I like. It fits, definitely, but I don't want the whole popeyes treatment. If I were flatchested, it wouldn't matter. Nothing to look at! I feel fine wearing the medium in front of my aunt, but find myself gravitating more towards the Large.
I looked around. I'm a little bloated now with the whole peanut butter thing... so no pants for a bit. The ones I have are a bit tight, and frankly I am not sizing up. When I dropped my last size, I donated them, so I don't have any fat pants. I would rather wear something a bit tight for a bit until I nail this, then buy SMALLER pants. So, OK with the pants.
What about tops? Cute t-shirts, but the collar was a little low for me. See, I used to be an A-B cup. So what if I showed a lot of collarbone? What cleavage? Well, now I am wearing a D cup. My chest is a lot different. So, I have to think "Will this cause Popeyes with the men?" all the time when shopping for tops. I had a really awful experience last year when I wore a fitted v-neck shirt, and a non-padded bra. I was miserably ill with the hives. I realized this guy at work was having a terrible time staring at my chest and realized it was distracting. I resolved not to be distracting.
I'm not wearing high collared muu-muus, but I do think about necklines now. I wear a padded bra, even when I have a Day Out in the heat. And I've never had that happen again. I think I'm being appropriate.
So, the cute t-shirts were a little daring. I went and looked at the microfiber t-shirts. They had one in mauve. In a large. I love mauve. I love the idea of a mauve microfiber t-shirt. I got one and some matching shorts in XL. They fit over what I was wearing, so I knew they would work. I prefer a larger clothing item. I don't have to worry about clingy issues.
I also got some warmup style shorts for $8. I like to hang out around the house wearing my elastic waist shorts. Now I have a nicer pair. Good for workouts, too. All this "Indulgence" and a Diet Dr Pepper, cost me about $25. I love Academy.
Ron has been talking a lot about how he wishes he has more money. He regrets the fact that he can't give me "more". I tell him, I don't need more. I am completely happy with a $1.70 double cheeseburger with bacon and a Diet Dr Pepper. [shrug] My motto: if you're happy with a little, you'll be happy with a lot.
In fact, I have a harder time when things are going well, financially. It makes me nervous, I feel like I might "screw up". I feel like I have to step carefully.
And, like I told Ron tonight as I ate the top off my pizza, I can't wear a t-shirt and bare feet to the nice restaurants! He wanted chicken from the pizza place, so he ordered me a pizza too. It was very good. I got queasy (didn't tell him that) about halfway though the meal so I stopped and put the rest in the fridge.
Oh, so after I went to Academy I waited at the bus stop, walked a bit, and went to the Christian bookstore. I wondered how many New Testaments I could get with one good arm. Fortunately for me, they only had 42 on display. I bought 40 and a few other books.
I got a call from a family member. It's hard to watch people you love hurting; but this person is very strong. I can give them what they need; love and support. That's good to know. I loved that the word "Stability" was used in conjunction with me. I am delighted that I'm viewed as "stable" now. [grin] That was a WHILE coming, let me tell you!
Off to Starbucks! I had planned to meet Ron but he cancelled. He told me to take a cab but the weather was fine and I felt OK. I had drunk a powerade before going out in the heat and that seems to be key for me. If I do that, I seem fine. Even after donating blood and on medication!
Ha! I do a LOT of living! Which leads me back to my don't compare. I can only compare myself, to myself. Compared to where I was, I'm doing fantastic. I do better every day. I am not the person I was. I am a strong, vital, caring, compassionate woman. I am a precious child of God, doing His work.
I am useful to God. That's amazing!
I drank my thing, realized I was a little manic, and took a lithium. Then off to wait on the bus.
Ron called and wanted to know if I'd like pizza. Sure, why not?
Nothing beat eating it, sitting on the couch, my feet up and watching a program on Sci-fi. I need to convey, somehow, to Ron that I feel I have the perfect life. I don't need all the stuff. I just want his love and support.
I woke up with a pretty nasty headache. I took some Tylenol and felt better after a hot shower. I did my God Time, ate a little, and got ready to go.
Ron and I had a date at the Blood Center, after a trip to Burger King. Our ride was late and we had another pickup. The next pickup is a NOTORIOUS guy. I actually prayed out loud for God to fill him with kindness and love.
It worked. The guy came out, happy as a clam, the nicest fellow ever. Had I not seen this guy raving at two separate drivers I would have thought he was a different guy. Wow. I was glad I had prayed, out loud!
Off to Burger King. Mr Cheerful waved bye-bye as they drove away. Surreal.
I got my usual Burger King meal. Pretty nauseous right now, no details. Then, off to the Blood Center.
We got there a little early and I signed us in. Ron was "doing" whole blood, while I was doing platelets. They really get excited about my platelet count. They set things up for double platelets.
Have you ever had an experience, giving blood, where it just never felt right? That's what happened with me. A lot of drama, readjusting the needle (ow), and flashing alarms on the computer. They finally stopped about halfway through, they had gotten half of what they wanted but it was a standard sized platelet donation.
I looked at the old lady, and the big guy, in the other chairs. They were doing fine. They didn't have to focus on mashing the ball like it just insulted them. They didn't have any alarms, and their bags were filling beautifully. It was very hard not to compare, and even harder not to feel like a failure.
I consoled myself with the thought that they had a good portion of platelets, and high-quality ones at that. I had asked God to allow this donation to proceed if it was His will. Apparently, today His will was for standard platelets, not double. My vein rolled, according to the technician. Naughty vein.
Ron, in the meantime, went off to a room to be screened. He was in there a long time. They have to read him the questions (Have you been in contact with someone's blood?) and answer the form. Then checking the iron. Apparently Ron passed, because then it was leading him off to the "whole" chairs on the other side of the room. They had the manager stick him, and it was a great donation. He said he will request her from now on.
We rested for a little bit and waited on the ride. It came and Ron went home. The driver was a very nice guy we both like.
I went to Favorite Dollar and got some more candy and ziplocks. I go through probably 100 baggies a week, and a couple pounds of candy. I found some very cute patriotic tootsie rolls.
The cashier said "Oh, the CANDY LADY!" [grin]. I thought that was cute. I have been called, far, far, worse!
I handed out about 10 "items" today. I recently checked the crime map for our area and discovered multiple robberies at one bus stop; one I frequent. Not any more.
I went the other way and got some pop at a gas station (gotta replace those fluids!). I felt barely lightheaded for a few minutes, about 15 minutes after donating. Other than that I felt fine. My big problem was not using my right arm to lift anything. Not for 12 hours.
I carry a huge backpack, loaded down with Driver Candy and all. My shopping went into it, too. I carefully used the left arm only. My right arm had suffered enough for one day! Other than that, I felt the same as any other day.
So, I waited at a safe bus stop. Caught a ride to the sporting goods store. If I have a favorite clothing store; it's Academy Sports. I just checked a map, dozens of them in Houston. Safe to mention them! They have the cutest sporty clothes.
I read a great book ages ago, http://www.amazon.com/Fabulous-You-Unlock-Perfect-Personal/dp/0425146189 . Toni talks about figuring out your style type, and working it. I am a sporty with a romantic accent; I do equally well in workout apparel or a long, floaty dress. I have a very sporty haircut.
So, for me, a sporting goods store is hog heaven. Well, actually I couldn't shop there when I was bigger. How horrible when even the XL gets stuck halfway up my thighs! I used to dream of the day when I could shop there.
When I want a treat, I pick up an item or two. I recently got a decent wardrobe of microfiber t-shirts - they don't hang on me, all wet with sweat, in the heat. Today I wore a "regular" cotton t-shirt and it wasn't pretty.
I decided that the Medium is form fitting, a little more than I like. It fits, definitely, but I don't want the whole popeyes treatment. If I were flatchested, it wouldn't matter. Nothing to look at! I feel fine wearing the medium in front of my aunt, but find myself gravitating more towards the Large.
I looked around. I'm a little bloated now with the whole peanut butter thing... so no pants for a bit. The ones I have are a bit tight, and frankly I am not sizing up. When I dropped my last size, I donated them, so I don't have any fat pants. I would rather wear something a bit tight for a bit until I nail this, then buy SMALLER pants. So, OK with the pants.
What about tops? Cute t-shirts, but the collar was a little low for me. See, I used to be an A-B cup. So what if I showed a lot of collarbone? What cleavage? Well, now I am wearing a D cup. My chest is a lot different. So, I have to think "Will this cause Popeyes with the men?" all the time when shopping for tops. I had a really awful experience last year when I wore a fitted v-neck shirt, and a non-padded bra. I was miserably ill with the hives. I realized this guy at work was having a terrible time staring at my chest and realized it was distracting. I resolved not to be distracting.
I'm not wearing high collared muu-muus, but I do think about necklines now. I wear a padded bra, even when I have a Day Out in the heat. And I've never had that happen again. I think I'm being appropriate.
So, the cute t-shirts were a little daring. I went and looked at the microfiber t-shirts. They had one in mauve. In a large. I love mauve. I love the idea of a mauve microfiber t-shirt. I got one and some matching shorts in XL. They fit over what I was wearing, so I knew they would work. I prefer a larger clothing item. I don't have to worry about clingy issues.
I also got some warmup style shorts for $8. I like to hang out around the house wearing my elastic waist shorts. Now I have a nicer pair. Good for workouts, too. All this "Indulgence" and a Diet Dr Pepper, cost me about $25. I love Academy.
Ron has been talking a lot about how he wishes he has more money. He regrets the fact that he can't give me "more". I tell him, I don't need more. I am completely happy with a $1.70 double cheeseburger with bacon and a Diet Dr Pepper. [shrug] My motto: if you're happy with a little, you'll be happy with a lot.
In fact, I have a harder time when things are going well, financially. It makes me nervous, I feel like I might "screw up". I feel like I have to step carefully.
And, like I told Ron tonight as I ate the top off my pizza, I can't wear a t-shirt and bare feet to the nice restaurants! He wanted chicken from the pizza place, so he ordered me a pizza too. It was very good. I got queasy (didn't tell him that) about halfway though the meal so I stopped and put the rest in the fridge.
Oh, so after I went to Academy I waited at the bus stop, walked a bit, and went to the Christian bookstore. I wondered how many New Testaments I could get with one good arm. Fortunately for me, they only had 42 on display. I bought 40 and a few other books.
I got a call from a family member. It's hard to watch people you love hurting; but this person is very strong. I can give them what they need; love and support. That's good to know. I loved that the word "Stability" was used in conjunction with me. I am delighted that I'm viewed as "stable" now. [grin] That was a WHILE coming, let me tell you!
Off to Starbucks! I had planned to meet Ron but he cancelled. He told me to take a cab but the weather was fine and I felt OK. I had drunk a powerade before going out in the heat and that seems to be key for me. If I do that, I seem fine. Even after donating blood and on medication!
Ha! I do a LOT of living! Which leads me back to my don't compare. I can only compare myself, to myself. Compared to where I was, I'm doing fantastic. I do better every day. I am not the person I was. I am a strong, vital, caring, compassionate woman. I am a precious child of God, doing His work.
I am useful to God. That's amazing!
I drank my thing, realized I was a little manic, and took a lithium. Then off to wait on the bus.
Ron called and wanted to know if I'd like pizza. Sure, why not?
Nothing beat eating it, sitting on the couch, my feet up and watching a program on Sci-fi. I need to convey, somehow, to Ron that I feel I have the perfect life. I don't need all the stuff. I just want his love and support.
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Knock at the Door
It's sad. Someone knocks on the door, my instinct is to go answer. However, some push-in home invasions and violent assaults have led to a re-evaluation of my policy.
Just now, I heard a loud banging at the door. I started for the door, stopped, and looked out the window. Mail truck. I looked out the peephole. Mailman, dressed properly. OK. THEN I opened the door.
How sad that we live in that kind of world! Where we can't just open the door when someone knocks!
I slept HORRIBLY, again, and got up at 2. I did my God time and Ron woke up. He was feeling pretty good - seemed to have dealt with whatever issues were bugging him.
I drank insane quantities of caffeine, and was a little dim, but managed to get to work OK. I had a little trouble when we went 20 minutes out of our way to pick up a guy in a dirty undershirt and too much cologne, who kept coughing up a lung. I reminded myself I would only get sick of God willed it, and spitefully wondered if he cough could be alleviated by a good shower's removal of the horrible cologne. It was like a urinal cake mating with some rotten fruit. UGH.
Then we dropped him at a Spanish "Temple of Power". I don't know what that is. I don't know what he worships, and I was happy to get out of there.
THEN work. Even after all that, we still beat the other vendor with a car! We had a nice deliveryman. Got the soda. I mashed up cardboard because Ron's boss is coming to visit Thursday. I did the pull and prepped the deposit. I checked snacks, which didn't need much at all. Happily, Food 1 is behaving.
I unloaded most of the pallet, rotated stock, and stacked it up. I gave Ron the soda he needed to stock. They really want orange pop right now.
Finally, done. We got picked up by a nice guy. He is an immigrant, from the Caribbean. He has a lovely accent. He took us to the bank. We transacted, and left. He picked us up again and took us to Walmart.
I got Ron in "his" cart and we got our supplies. I needed cat food, some canned food items, and got some Diet Dr Pepper because it was on sale. I was happy I only spent $40. About half of what I got went into our disaster kit.
Our ride was going to be an hour late, so the dispatcher fixed it. We wondered what that meant.
The same driver picked us up for a THIRD time. I was teasing him relentlessly, "What did you call that dispatcher? It must have been awful! They've cursed you with us 3 times today!" He was really happy to see the hamburger, too. I always try to get one for the driver if we have a Walmart pickup.
Now, all I need to do: some cooking and dishes. That's it. I'm trying to take it easy.
I bought some valerian root to help with my sleep cycle. It is kind of like an herbal sleeping pill. Helps you go to sleep, and stay asleep.
It looks like it will be raining all this week, on my days off. We will probably not see the hurricane but I've learned to watch the weather. I'm sure the TV stations love the additional viewers.
Just now, I heard a loud banging at the door. I started for the door, stopped, and looked out the window. Mail truck. I looked out the peephole. Mailman, dressed properly. OK. THEN I opened the door.
How sad that we live in that kind of world! Where we can't just open the door when someone knocks!
I slept HORRIBLY, again, and got up at 2. I did my God time and Ron woke up. He was feeling pretty good - seemed to have dealt with whatever issues were bugging him.
I drank insane quantities of caffeine, and was a little dim, but managed to get to work OK. I had a little trouble when we went 20 minutes out of our way to pick up a guy in a dirty undershirt and too much cologne, who kept coughing up a lung. I reminded myself I would only get sick of God willed it, and spitefully wondered if he cough could be alleviated by a good shower's removal of the horrible cologne. It was like a urinal cake mating with some rotten fruit. UGH.
Then we dropped him at a Spanish "Temple of Power". I don't know what that is. I don't know what he worships, and I was happy to get out of there.
THEN work. Even after all that, we still beat the other vendor with a car! We had a nice deliveryman. Got the soda. I mashed up cardboard because Ron's boss is coming to visit Thursday. I did the pull and prepped the deposit. I checked snacks, which didn't need much at all. Happily, Food 1 is behaving.
I unloaded most of the pallet, rotated stock, and stacked it up. I gave Ron the soda he needed to stock. They really want orange pop right now.
Finally, done. We got picked up by a nice guy. He is an immigrant, from the Caribbean. He has a lovely accent. He took us to the bank. We transacted, and left. He picked us up again and took us to Walmart.
I got Ron in "his" cart and we got our supplies. I needed cat food, some canned food items, and got some Diet Dr Pepper because it was on sale. I was happy I only spent $40. About half of what I got went into our disaster kit.
Our ride was going to be an hour late, so the dispatcher fixed it. We wondered what that meant.
The same driver picked us up for a THIRD time. I was teasing him relentlessly, "What did you call that dispatcher? It must have been awful! They've cursed you with us 3 times today!" He was really happy to see the hamburger, too. I always try to get one for the driver if we have a Walmart pickup.
Now, all I need to do: some cooking and dishes. That's it. I'm trying to take it easy.
I bought some valerian root to help with my sleep cycle. It is kind of like an herbal sleeping pill. Helps you go to sleep, and stay asleep.
It looks like it will be raining all this week, on my days off. We will probably not see the hurricane but I've learned to watch the weather. I'm sure the TV stations love the additional viewers.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Taking care of myself
Today has been a rather challenging exercise, not letting Ron's bad mood infect me. Taking care of myself when it seems like he won't.
I meant to mention this, the other time Ron gets really upset about "What will the neighbors think" is when I talk about having bipolar disorder. If he's in one of his "moods" then he tries to shush me. Then when we're alone it's I don't want people to know... [rolleyes]
Is he ashamed of me? Probably. He has said things like "Your broken brain" and used the word "defective" when he is angry at me. I think he feels like God gave him second-best. He rants a lot about why couldn't God give him a "Normal" woman.
I don't tell him this, but if I think the situation is appropriate I will ABSOLUTELY tell anyone anything they need to know. If your only encounter with "bipolar" is someone going off, killing people, committing crimes, sleeping around, etc... what are you going to think when you are diagnosed? But if you have met someone who seemed so normal (snort) and told you how ill she was, you're going to realize it's not a life-ender. I feel that is more important than what a stranger might think.
I had one driver come up to me, months after I had disclosed some awful details of my illness, thanking me profusely because I had given her hope and shared the name and number of my doctor. Her life was a lot better now; how could I EVER stop after that?
I hope I have also done the same here. It's kind of like sending out messages in bottles, I know some of you pick them up and read them. I know, assume, that some are helped by reading of my trials and reactions to everyday life.
To my recollection, NO ONE has ever gotten mean or judgemental when I shared about my illness; well, one guy at work but he was trying to use it as ammo to get me upset. I just went off and laughed when I was alone, because it was so obvious that HE needed mood medication.
That bothers Ron, just like it bothers him that I will share Jesus and His love with ANYONE. I'm sorry. I don't see anything in the Bible about inviting the "right people" to heaven. In fact, I don't see anything about us having the right to judge our fellow humans. Matthew 7:1 "Judge not, lest ye be judged." Pretty clear.
Luke chapter 7:
33For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you say, 'He has a demon.' 34The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and you say, 'Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and "sinners." ' (NIV)
There's a trick to, it, though. I can't be directly confrontational with Ron. So far, I have been telling him "I understand" when he complains and orders me to never, ever... again. I am not agreeing or disagreeing. I am understanding.
So, how DO I cope when he is stomping around, cursing God, worried about stuff he can't change, and calling God "Torture Man"? I WISH I were kidding.
Well, I tried to think of myself in the third person. What if I read Heather's blog. Her big complaint is that she feels her husband is making unfair requests, cursing out her God, and running her around without a break.
It's been well over a week since I had a single day to myself; and even then it was running errands. I haven't been sleeping well. Well, I can't do much, but I can do this: Take a good nap. Even Ron mostly respected that, waking me up once to give me a very negative letter about his viewpoint. I think his big problem is that he won't turn things over to God; he's still trying to drag all these old worries around on his back. It's very sad.
I guess I have an advantage, having all that horrible, shameful, mental illness (grin). I learned right quick I had better dump it all on God, or I'd snap. I dump it and I leave it there. I could worry about all kinds of things; look at the hurricane in the Gulf. Oh, I could have a good fit over that if I let myself, but I don't!
So, I am refusing to accept Ron's negativity, while respecting his emotions and not judging him. If he wants to walk around worried and miserable, that's his right. I cannot, and will not, allow his moods to infect me with bitterness and anger. I've been down that road; I know I need to watch that.
He doesn't even want me to tell him I'm praying for him, but I am of course. God doesn't need me to defend Him, so I let him say all kinds of hateful and bitter things about My Lord. It would just be a fight. God needs me to be patient, kind, and loving.
I know I can't do that on my own, so God ALSO needs me to take it to Him. I need to prune out all of the bitterness, anger, and resentment. Why can't I have a husband who loves me and says so? I get a guy who is constantly saying varations of "I wish I were dead".
God has put me with Ron to teach me patience, kindness, and mercy. He knows I don't have those qualities. He knows I need to come to Him and get filled up on a regular basis. That may mean I am literally asking God EVERY SINGLE MINUTE to "Put Your thoughts in my head, Your words in my mouth, Your love in my heart" while Ron is being ugly and ranting. It means turning the other cheek when Ron's name-calling, because reacting is going to feed Ron and make it a lot worse.
It means doing kind things for Ron when he has done absolutely NOTHING to "deserve" it. But it's not about pleasing my husband, my life is about pleasing God.
I meant to mention this, the other time Ron gets really upset about "What will the neighbors think" is when I talk about having bipolar disorder. If he's in one of his "moods" then he tries to shush me. Then when we're alone it's I don't want people to know... [rolleyes]
Is he ashamed of me? Probably. He has said things like "Your broken brain" and used the word "defective" when he is angry at me. I think he feels like God gave him second-best. He rants a lot about why couldn't God give him a "Normal" woman.
I don't tell him this, but if I think the situation is appropriate I will ABSOLUTELY tell anyone anything they need to know. If your only encounter with "bipolar" is someone going off, killing people, committing crimes, sleeping around, etc... what are you going to think when you are diagnosed? But if you have met someone who seemed so normal (snort) and told you how ill she was, you're going to realize it's not a life-ender. I feel that is more important than what a stranger might think.
I had one driver come up to me, months after I had disclosed some awful details of my illness, thanking me profusely because I had given her hope and shared the name and number of my doctor. Her life was a lot better now; how could I EVER stop after that?
I hope I have also done the same here. It's kind of like sending out messages in bottles, I know some of you pick them up and read them. I know, assume, that some are helped by reading of my trials and reactions to everyday life.
To my recollection, NO ONE has ever gotten mean or judgemental when I shared about my illness; well, one guy at work but he was trying to use it as ammo to get me upset. I just went off and laughed when I was alone, because it was so obvious that HE needed mood medication.
That bothers Ron, just like it bothers him that I will share Jesus and His love with ANYONE. I'm sorry. I don't see anything in the Bible about inviting the "right people" to heaven. In fact, I don't see anything about us having the right to judge our fellow humans. Matthew 7:1 "Judge not, lest ye be judged." Pretty clear.
Luke chapter 7:
33For John the Baptist came neither eating bread nor drinking wine, and you say, 'He has a demon.' 34The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and you say, 'Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and "sinners." ' (NIV)
There's a trick to, it, though. I can't be directly confrontational with Ron. So far, I have been telling him "I understand" when he complains and orders me to never, ever... again. I am not agreeing or disagreeing. I am understanding.
So, how DO I cope when he is stomping around, cursing God, worried about stuff he can't change, and calling God "Torture Man"? I WISH I were kidding.
Well, I tried to think of myself in the third person. What if I read Heather's blog. Her big complaint is that she feels her husband is making unfair requests, cursing out her God, and running her around without a break.
It's been well over a week since I had a single day to myself; and even then it was running errands. I haven't been sleeping well. Well, I can't do much, but I can do this: Take a good nap. Even Ron mostly respected that, waking me up once to give me a very negative letter about his viewpoint. I think his big problem is that he won't turn things over to God; he's still trying to drag all these old worries around on his back. It's very sad.
I guess I have an advantage, having all that horrible, shameful, mental illness (grin). I learned right quick I had better dump it all on God, or I'd snap. I dump it and I leave it there. I could worry about all kinds of things; look at the hurricane in the Gulf. Oh, I could have a good fit over that if I let myself, but I don't!
So, I am refusing to accept Ron's negativity, while respecting his emotions and not judging him. If he wants to walk around worried and miserable, that's his right. I cannot, and will not, allow his moods to infect me with bitterness and anger. I've been down that road; I know I need to watch that.
He doesn't even want me to tell him I'm praying for him, but I am of course. God doesn't need me to defend Him, so I let him say all kinds of hateful and bitter things about My Lord. It would just be a fight. God needs me to be patient, kind, and loving.
I know I can't do that on my own, so God ALSO needs me to take it to Him. I need to prune out all of the bitterness, anger, and resentment. Why can't I have a husband who loves me and says so? I get a guy who is constantly saying varations of "I wish I were dead".
God has put me with Ron to teach me patience, kindness, and mercy. He knows I don't have those qualities. He knows I need to come to Him and get filled up on a regular basis. That may mean I am literally asking God EVERY SINGLE MINUTE to "Put Your thoughts in my head, Your words in my mouth, Your love in my heart" while Ron is being ugly and ranting. It means turning the other cheek when Ron's name-calling, because reacting is going to feed Ron and make it a lot worse.
It means doing kind things for Ron when he has done absolutely NOTHING to "deserve" it. But it's not about pleasing my husband, my life is about pleasing God.
The Company you keep
This is one post, I feel, where most people will agree with Ron and view me as nuts. [Ugh. I just had to endure a morning-long rant on how God is so "Awful" to Ron and how Ron wishes he would lose everything and end up in a nursing home (alone of course). "I wish I would lose the house and business" he says, "So I don't have to worry about it anymore." I finally told him I had my quota of negativity and asked him to please leave me alone if he "didn't have anything positive to say, because you would not want to listen to me talking about headaches all day long." "I'll go suck it up" he said bitterly as he left. I'm so sorry I only lasted 3 hours!]
Anyway, off to Foodtown this morning. I had a bagful of driver candy and my tote bag. Ron was really agitated - they had cut our time at Foodtown and he kept going on about it.
My attitude is just "Tell me about it and drop it." I don't CARE if they cut our time. His having hysterics and asking me repeatedly if I have enough time to shop - that is stressful! "You only have 17 minutes!" [sigh, rolleyes] IT'S OK. Like I told you the OTHER 4 times you asked.
So, we go to Foodtown. He doesn't want fruit salad. I get some veggies. I see the low-carb tortillas and ask him how many burritos he has left; he tells me 2, I offer to get supplies and make him some more. Great.
He's been reading this cookbook by Tricia Yearwood and treating everything she writes as the gospel. [shrug] I have eaten a lot of the old-time southern appetizers and all. He kept going on about sausage balls. I told him, the bake mix is a deal killer, and even when I could eat wheat I found them pretty insipid. If he wanted, I'd make him some... no. He got upset that I wasn't as rabid about trying the recipes. [shrug] Nothing sounded very good, it was all carbs, carbs, carbs. Wheat, wheat, wheat. I don't want to eat things that make me fat and sick!
I seldom use a recipe. I have never found a cookbook that I felt had "Great" recipes. They were always OK. I have pretty simple tastes, a green salad, maybe some green beans, a nice chunk of meat, some sharp cheese, and maybe a little fruit for "dessert". I love sausage, cheese, and peanuts. I have very peasant tastes, I'd say.
I got Ron the supplies he needed (about 4 cans), and went ahead and got a few things for the disaster kit. Foodtown does not have low prices on the canned sausage! I decided to wait on that! I did get some additional canned veggies because I noticed I'm pretty low.
I also got some Powerade Zero, good to have around in the heat even if you don't have a disaster or illness. It would be very difficult for Ron to get supplies if I fell ill.
I also got some soda and looked at the meats, deciding I had "plenty" at home already. I can eat those up, especially since we have a "thing" in the Gulf. I don't want a lot of fresh meat in the fridge if we lose power.
I got the driver a pastry, which I forgot. I will give it to tomorrow's driver if Ron doesn't eat it. I got Ron some eggrolls and headed to checkout.
I had about 5 minutes, and got in line. The assistant manager called me over as he opened a register. A "lady" tried to cut, but he wouldn't let her.
She decided to play snarky little tricks like putting up the divider 6 inches past my first item, leaving me 5 inches to load my entire cart on the conveyor. I took it off and said "I have more items than that, ma'am." Then she tried to take things out of my cart and load them, putting the eggs up where they would have been crushed. I don't like strangers getting grabby with my stuff. I stopped her and said "I'll load my own merchandise, thank you." She kept huffing and sighing and getting very agitated, pushing forward and jamming my cart into my ankles.
I finally stopped and looked at her. "Ma'am, I'm in a hurry, too. If you just leave me alone I can get this done a lot faster, but you're getting in my way and making it longer for all of us." That stopped her cold. In fact, once I had been rung and bagged, the guy took his time getting her order rung.
Now, I expect little attacks like this. I am doing work for God. That is bound to piss off the bad guy. I have no idea what's happening with all those Bibles I've handed out, but I have to assume a few of them have resulted in people getting saved or getting back on track with God. I handed out Bibles to the manager and bagger with a smile.
Since I do ride the bus frequently, I often see the homeless in our area. Every area has a half-dozen or so "regulars". I know most of them by name. I noticed "Bushy" was sitting next to Ron on the bench.
I looked at Bushy - he's always the same. Skinny white guy, covered in tattoos, could use a good bath, dirty clothes, bushy hair. When I saw him, I thought "Ah, I can give him a Bible." I have gotten his wife and friends but not him. He ran off last time when I stuck my hand in my bag.
Ron was looking distinctly uncomfortable. By this point he had figured out that the guy was "Bushy". Ron has gotten upset with me recently, more than once, for "being nice to THOSE PEOPLE." Today was no exception.
I chatted briefly as I looked outside, and teased the janitor as I got ready to buy a can of Diet Dr. "If it comes out 7up again, will you take it?" Clunk. Ah! Frosty goodness!
Bushy drank his pop and mused about various things, including all his recent arrests for public intoxication. I remained pretty neutral. I did give him a Bible and he seemed pretty touched. He seemed to take it seriously.
Anyway, he wandered off and our ride came. Ron didn't say anything on the way home but as soon as the front door shut he got really upset. He doesn't want me talking to the "dregs".
When I met Ron, I saw him as more of a rebel. He would really be nauseated if he saw what I do: he's turned into his mother! "What will the neighbors think!?" "You are judged by the company you keep!" "I don't want to associate with THOSE PEOPLE."
Please. I didn't invite him over for dinner, I simply spoke kindly and gave him a Bible. I'm not stupid enough to support his habit. Oh, yeah, Foodtown is going to BAN us because I gave this guy a Bible. Him and everyone else in the world! They probably had a bet going on how long it would take me to hand him one.
I am doing my best to emulate Jesus, and he hung out with the "dregs". Alcoholics, prostitutes, and tax collectors (like a drug dealer today). He did not judge people, ever. He showed them God's love. In fact, he got angry when people told him he shouldn't work with "Them". He said THEY needed God more than the "righteous".
As I was typing, Ron came back in: more negativity, "I don't want to hear your opinions, Heather." [snort] Sadly, I do believe him. He has said again and again he doesn't care what I think or how I feel. Days like today, I believe him 100%. I really don't like the "Request" - it is phrased as a request but it's really an order.
"Figure out how to make this work." "Find the business card for the tree guy." "Don't cook anything tonight."
Yeah, let's talk about that. See, her cookbook talked about the BEST way to peel a hard-boiled egg, and Ron is more devoted to that book than I am to my Bible. I indulged him when he informed me we'd be using the BEST method to boil eggs to make his tuna salad.
I tried to tell him a music "Superstar" probably has a domestic staff to boil and peel eggs. He didn't want to hear it. No, she boils and peels them herself.
Put the eggs in cold water, bring to a boil, turn the water off, let sit for 20 minutes, then put in cold water. I have tried a varation of that but Ron didn't want to hear how badly it came out. OK. Let's go waste 8 eggs.
Sure enough, on the second egg Ron says "This didn't work". I mentioned I did not feel safe eating an egg that had not been BOILED for 20 minutes, as the FDA advises. That really did it for him, he threw them all out. He did the whole "I'm so disappointed" routine where he mopes around and "nothing ever turns out right".
"Don't cook anymore tonight". Great. What am I supposed to do to for MY dinner? Just because your precious cookbook was wrong, I'm not ALLOWED to cook? Seems very unfair.
I finally told Ron he was in a bad mood and to please leave me alone. I feel like his toilet today.
Anyway, off to Foodtown this morning. I had a bagful of driver candy and my tote bag. Ron was really agitated - they had cut our time at Foodtown and he kept going on about it.
My attitude is just "Tell me about it and drop it." I don't CARE if they cut our time. His having hysterics and asking me repeatedly if I have enough time to shop - that is stressful! "You only have 17 minutes!" [sigh, rolleyes] IT'S OK. Like I told you the OTHER 4 times you asked.
So, we go to Foodtown. He doesn't want fruit salad. I get some veggies. I see the low-carb tortillas and ask him how many burritos he has left; he tells me 2, I offer to get supplies and make him some more. Great.
He's been reading this cookbook by Tricia Yearwood and treating everything she writes as the gospel. [shrug] I have eaten a lot of the old-time southern appetizers and all. He kept going on about sausage balls. I told him, the bake mix is a deal killer, and even when I could eat wheat I found them pretty insipid. If he wanted, I'd make him some... no. He got upset that I wasn't as rabid about trying the recipes. [shrug] Nothing sounded very good, it was all carbs, carbs, carbs. Wheat, wheat, wheat. I don't want to eat things that make me fat and sick!
I seldom use a recipe. I have never found a cookbook that I felt had "Great" recipes. They were always OK. I have pretty simple tastes, a green salad, maybe some green beans, a nice chunk of meat, some sharp cheese, and maybe a little fruit for "dessert". I love sausage, cheese, and peanuts. I have very peasant tastes, I'd say.
I got Ron the supplies he needed (about 4 cans), and went ahead and got a few things for the disaster kit. Foodtown does not have low prices on the canned sausage! I decided to wait on that! I did get some additional canned veggies because I noticed I'm pretty low.
I also got some Powerade Zero, good to have around in the heat even if you don't have a disaster or illness. It would be very difficult for Ron to get supplies if I fell ill.
I also got some soda and looked at the meats, deciding I had "plenty" at home already. I can eat those up, especially since we have a "thing" in the Gulf. I don't want a lot of fresh meat in the fridge if we lose power.
I got the driver a pastry, which I forgot. I will give it to tomorrow's driver if Ron doesn't eat it. I got Ron some eggrolls and headed to checkout.
I had about 5 minutes, and got in line. The assistant manager called me over as he opened a register. A "lady" tried to cut, but he wouldn't let her.
She decided to play snarky little tricks like putting up the divider 6 inches past my first item, leaving me 5 inches to load my entire cart on the conveyor. I took it off and said "I have more items than that, ma'am." Then she tried to take things out of my cart and load them, putting the eggs up where they would have been crushed. I don't like strangers getting grabby with my stuff. I stopped her and said "I'll load my own merchandise, thank you." She kept huffing and sighing and getting very agitated, pushing forward and jamming my cart into my ankles.
I finally stopped and looked at her. "Ma'am, I'm in a hurry, too. If you just leave me alone I can get this done a lot faster, but you're getting in my way and making it longer for all of us." That stopped her cold. In fact, once I had been rung and bagged, the guy took his time getting her order rung.
Now, I expect little attacks like this. I am doing work for God. That is bound to piss off the bad guy. I have no idea what's happening with all those Bibles I've handed out, but I have to assume a few of them have resulted in people getting saved or getting back on track with God. I handed out Bibles to the manager and bagger with a smile.
Since I do ride the bus frequently, I often see the homeless in our area. Every area has a half-dozen or so "regulars". I know most of them by name. I noticed "Bushy" was sitting next to Ron on the bench.
I looked at Bushy - he's always the same. Skinny white guy, covered in tattoos, could use a good bath, dirty clothes, bushy hair. When I saw him, I thought "Ah, I can give him a Bible." I have gotten his wife and friends but not him. He ran off last time when I stuck my hand in my bag.
Ron was looking distinctly uncomfortable. By this point he had figured out that the guy was "Bushy". Ron has gotten upset with me recently, more than once, for "being nice to THOSE PEOPLE." Today was no exception.
I chatted briefly as I looked outside, and teased the janitor as I got ready to buy a can of Diet Dr. "If it comes out 7up again, will you take it?" Clunk. Ah! Frosty goodness!
Bushy drank his pop and mused about various things, including all his recent arrests for public intoxication. I remained pretty neutral. I did give him a Bible and he seemed pretty touched. He seemed to take it seriously.
Anyway, he wandered off and our ride came. Ron didn't say anything on the way home but as soon as the front door shut he got really upset. He doesn't want me talking to the "dregs".
When I met Ron, I saw him as more of a rebel. He would really be nauseated if he saw what I do: he's turned into his mother! "What will the neighbors think!?" "You are judged by the company you keep!" "I don't want to associate with THOSE PEOPLE."
Please. I didn't invite him over for dinner, I simply spoke kindly and gave him a Bible. I'm not stupid enough to support his habit. Oh, yeah, Foodtown is going to BAN us because I gave this guy a Bible. Him and everyone else in the world! They probably had a bet going on how long it would take me to hand him one.
I am doing my best to emulate Jesus, and he hung out with the "dregs". Alcoholics, prostitutes, and tax collectors (like a drug dealer today). He did not judge people, ever. He showed them God's love. In fact, he got angry when people told him he shouldn't work with "Them". He said THEY needed God more than the "righteous".
As I was typing, Ron came back in: more negativity, "I don't want to hear your opinions, Heather." [snort] Sadly, I do believe him. He has said again and again he doesn't care what I think or how I feel. Days like today, I believe him 100%. I really don't like the "Request" - it is phrased as a request but it's really an order.
"Figure out how to make this work." "Find the business card for the tree guy." "Don't cook anything tonight."
Yeah, let's talk about that. See, her cookbook talked about the BEST way to peel a hard-boiled egg, and Ron is more devoted to that book than I am to my Bible. I indulged him when he informed me we'd be using the BEST method to boil eggs to make his tuna salad.
I tried to tell him a music "Superstar" probably has a domestic staff to boil and peel eggs. He didn't want to hear it. No, she boils and peels them herself.
Put the eggs in cold water, bring to a boil, turn the water off, let sit for 20 minutes, then put in cold water. I have tried a varation of that but Ron didn't want to hear how badly it came out. OK. Let's go waste 8 eggs.
Sure enough, on the second egg Ron says "This didn't work". I mentioned I did not feel safe eating an egg that had not been BOILED for 20 minutes, as the FDA advises. That really did it for him, he threw them all out. He did the whole "I'm so disappointed" routine where he mopes around and "nothing ever turns out right".
"Don't cook anymore tonight". Great. What am I supposed to do to for MY dinner? Just because your precious cookbook was wrong, I'm not ALLOWED to cook? Seems very unfair.
I finally told Ron he was in a bad mood and to please leave me alone. I feel like his toilet today.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
New Videos
New Videos!
Look over in the bar to the right... blogger is being a butt about letting me post the links.
Look over in the bar to the right... blogger is being a butt about letting me post the links.
Heather, I need you this way
Heather, I need you this way
.When I was a kid I'd fall and I'd cry
I'd look at the others, I'd moan and I'd sigh
.God why am I different? It's not very fair
They can do so much, I just can't compare.
I tried and I tried to learn tying my shoes
I'd fall off my bike, and was plagued by the blues
Depressed as a child! Sure doesn't seem fair!
I hated my glasses, my feet, and my hair.
I tried to make friends, so strange and so wierd
My company? No thanks! I was to be feared!
I sighed and I cried and I leaned upon God
I took him my pain and I made him my Rock.
When others were playing, and on the home phone
I was in my room, with God, never alone.
He told me again and again, oh it seemed
."I'm going to use you, for wonderful things."
As I got older, I realized my brain
Was broken and different, a source of much pain
I cried and I raged and felt bitter inside
When I realized that I never would drive
Stuck on the bus for the rest of my life!
No man would ever want that for a wife!
My glasses so thick, and my face broken out
My bitterness, raging, at God I would shout.
God why did you ever create me this way?
Are you sick, mad or just playing a game?
I love you so much but you weren't thinking straight
Had I been normal I could have done many things.
I could have reached others and led them to you
I could have made money, not cried with the blues.
Instead I have migraines, the ups and the downs
Can't live in the country, it must be the town.
God smiled and told me that soon I would see.
He had wonderful plans in store for plain old me.
I met my true love, at a certain job.
I only got because I'm off in my "knob".
Had I been born normal we would not have met.
One moment beside him, and our fates were set.
True love had stuck hard and fast and this I know.
We'll stay together, through sun and the snow.
God took many years before His plan was revealed.
A horrible accident, pain and harsh tears.
I looked around one day, my Bible in hand
And realized the others, on Him couldn't stand.
They din't know Jesus, they were all alone!
I couldn't stand that, put some Bibles on "loan".
The others so grateful someone had shared Him.
My future was set and the pain grew quite Dim.
I asked God for others to show them the way.
He said they were busy, or quite far away.
I said I could help if He wanted me to,
He said to me, "Heather! That's why I made you!
I need you to hand out Bibles on the bus.
I need you, with candy, to show them my love
I need you at multiple bus stops to stand,
To smile at the ugly, with Bible in your hand.
When you get mugged, I'll need you to pray.
For the poor dumb kid who stumbled your way
I need to to pray and I need you to care
Because you know this world is cold and unfair.
I knew that no one else could do this job so well.
So I made you for it, like ringing a bell. .
I knew you could go with my love in your heart;
I knew that you'd go even when it's hard.
I know you will care and I know you will love
The pull to go, know that it comes from above.
I'll guide you and show just what you should do.
I need you for this, that's why I made you.
If you were born normal, you'd be in a car.
And not at the bus stop, you'd be quite far.
I couldn't use you if you made lots of cash.
I need you with time and a big Bible stash."
I told him I'd go and I have no regrets.
I scratch my head sometimes, I often forget.
I lose things, my moods change, and yet He's still there
He fills me up, constantly, full of His care.
I hope that one day sometime after I've died.
I'll sit up in heaven, a large table beside.
I'll ask God about it, and He will just grin;
That's for the souls that you helped Me call in.
I'll sit at my table, I'll feast and I'll smile.
The cashiers, bus drivers, and others beside.
We'll laugh and we'll sing and God will kindly say:
Heather, you know why I made you this way
.When I was a kid I'd fall and I'd cry
I'd look at the others, I'd moan and I'd sigh
.God why am I different? It's not very fair
They can do so much, I just can't compare.
I tried and I tried to learn tying my shoes
I'd fall off my bike, and was plagued by the blues
Depressed as a child! Sure doesn't seem fair!
I hated my glasses, my feet, and my hair.
I tried to make friends, so strange and so wierd
My company? No thanks! I was to be feared!
I sighed and I cried and I leaned upon God
I took him my pain and I made him my Rock.
When others were playing, and on the home phone
I was in my room, with God, never alone.
He told me again and again, oh it seemed
."I'm going to use you, for wonderful things."
As I got older, I realized my brain
Was broken and different, a source of much pain
I cried and I raged and felt bitter inside
When I realized that I never would drive
Stuck on the bus for the rest of my life!
No man would ever want that for a wife!
My glasses so thick, and my face broken out
My bitterness, raging, at God I would shout.
God why did you ever create me this way?
Are you sick, mad or just playing a game?
I love you so much but you weren't thinking straight
Had I been normal I could have done many things.
I could have reached others and led them to you
I could have made money, not cried with the blues.
Instead I have migraines, the ups and the downs
Can't live in the country, it must be the town.
God smiled and told me that soon I would see.
He had wonderful plans in store for plain old me.
I met my true love, at a certain job.
I only got because I'm off in my "knob".
Had I been born normal we would not have met.
One moment beside him, and our fates were set.
True love had stuck hard and fast and this I know.
We'll stay together, through sun and the snow.
God took many years before His plan was revealed.
A horrible accident, pain and harsh tears.
I looked around one day, my Bible in hand
And realized the others, on Him couldn't stand.
They din't know Jesus, they were all alone!
I couldn't stand that, put some Bibles on "loan".
The others so grateful someone had shared Him.
My future was set and the pain grew quite Dim.
I asked God for others to show them the way.
He said they were busy, or quite far away.
I said I could help if He wanted me to,
He said to me, "Heather! That's why I made you!
I need you to hand out Bibles on the bus.
I need you, with candy, to show them my love
I need you at multiple bus stops to stand,
To smile at the ugly, with Bible in your hand.
When you get mugged, I'll need you to pray.
For the poor dumb kid who stumbled your way
I need to to pray and I need you to care
Because you know this world is cold and unfair.
I knew that no one else could do this job so well.
So I made you for it, like ringing a bell. .
I knew you could go with my love in your heart;
I knew that you'd go even when it's hard.
I know you will care and I know you will love
The pull to go, know that it comes from above.
I'll guide you and show just what you should do.
I need you for this, that's why I made you.
If you were born normal, you'd be in a car.
And not at the bus stop, you'd be quite far.
I couldn't use you if you made lots of cash.
I need you with time and a big Bible stash."
I told him I'd go and I have no regrets.
I scratch my head sometimes, I often forget.
I lose things, my moods change, and yet He's still there
He fills me up, constantly, full of His care.
I hope that one day sometime after I've died.
I'll sit up in heaven, a large table beside.
I'll ask God about it, and He will just grin;
That's for the souls that you helped Me call in.
I'll sit at my table, I'll feast and I'll smile.
The cashiers, bus drivers, and others beside.
We'll laugh and we'll sing and God will kindly say:
Heather, you know why I made you this way
My fever's gone
Well, a lot of running around what with Ron and the dentist this week. Not sleeping well, either.
Not surprising I caught something! I'm not sure what it was, I had a fever of 100.8, some aches, fatigue. I didn't have a sore throat, cough, or any kind of nose symptom. Huh. All the systems seemed to be working.
Whatever it was, I licked it. I chose to stay home today (Ron had made a trip to Foodtown) on the off chance I might be contagious. I don't want to be the person who gets people sick.
Anyway, I'm feeling better. No fever, just fatigue. That's easily remedied with some bed time.
Not surprising I caught something! I'm not sure what it was, I had a fever of 100.8, some aches, fatigue. I didn't have a sore throat, cough, or any kind of nose symptom. Huh. All the systems seemed to be working.
Whatever it was, I licked it. I chose to stay home today (Ron had made a trip to Foodtown) on the off chance I might be contagious. I don't want to be the person who gets people sick.
Anyway, I'm feeling better. No fever, just fatigue. That's easily remedied with some bed time.
Friday, June 25, 2010
I need to shut up
[groan] I need to shut up. "I never get sick".
I ran around a lot yesterday and didn't get a good amount of sleep for various reasons. I had a few little aches and pains, but didn't really pay attention to them.
Today, I was OK at work but after we left I started feeling extreme fatigue. By the time I laid down for a nap, I was running a fever. When I woke up it was 101.
Drinking a lot of water, taking my tylenol. I feel really run down and headachy.
I ran around a lot yesterday and didn't get a good amount of sleep for various reasons. I had a few little aches and pains, but didn't really pay attention to them.
Today, I was OK at work but after we left I started feeling extreme fatigue. By the time I laid down for a nap, I was running a fever. When I woke up it was 101.
Drinking a lot of water, taking my tylenol. I feel really run down and headachy.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Bad Headache
I have a rating scale for headaches. Headache, Bad Headache, and Migraine.
I woke up with a Bad Headache. I was worried about it evolving into a migraine, so I took 2 Excedrin on an empty stomach and went back to sleep. I slept about 3-4 hours. When I woke up I felt a lot better.
I needed some more Tylenol at about 10, but overall OK. I knew, eating the pie, that I could get a headache but at the time it seemed "worth it". Meh.
I was happy to do my God Time. I hate it when I can't due to a migraine. I was able to go with Ron to the dentist.
Actually, we got there an hour early. Ron waited while I walked over to a store. I was out of Diet Dr Pepper. I bought some and lugged it back. Ron finished the buildup and all on the root canal and got the temporary crown. That took hours.
He had a good time talking to the dentist and playing his music. At one point, several employees were gathered in the room listening to Ron and the doc. It took longer than Ron expected, and he had to put his ride on hold.
We finished at about 4, and it was safe to say the office building would probably close before our ride came. So, I picked up all the soda, Ron latched onto my right shoulder, and off to the store.
Happily, we got a nice driver, and quickly, too.
He had an interesting story. Apparently, this morning a woman riding Metrolift said she needed to use the bathroom, urgently, and directed the driver to a store. The driver pulled up, the client got out and went inside.
15 minutes later she went looking for the client, who was sitting at a table. "I ordered some food! I'm not leaving yet!" The driver called dispatch and was told to LEAVE HER.
I don't envy her when she was ready to leave. I bet they made her wait HOURS while "Looking for a driver". Every single thing a client does builds a reputation; the question is what kind.
From now on, that client will not be viewed kindly by the drivers. It's one thing if you need an unscheduled stop, it's another thing entirely if you lie to the driver and treat them like your personal lackey.
Foolish.
One time a driver came to pick us up. "It was time to go home, and they gave me an extra trip. I was going to refuse it, but then I saw it was you."
That's the kind of reputation I want.
I woke up with a Bad Headache. I was worried about it evolving into a migraine, so I took 2 Excedrin on an empty stomach and went back to sleep. I slept about 3-4 hours. When I woke up I felt a lot better.
I needed some more Tylenol at about 10, but overall OK. I knew, eating the pie, that I could get a headache but at the time it seemed "worth it". Meh.
I was happy to do my God Time. I hate it when I can't due to a migraine. I was able to go with Ron to the dentist.
Actually, we got there an hour early. Ron waited while I walked over to a store. I was out of Diet Dr Pepper. I bought some and lugged it back. Ron finished the buildup and all on the root canal and got the temporary crown. That took hours.
He had a good time talking to the dentist and playing his music. At one point, several employees were gathered in the room listening to Ron and the doc. It took longer than Ron expected, and he had to put his ride on hold.
We finished at about 4, and it was safe to say the office building would probably close before our ride came. So, I picked up all the soda, Ron latched onto my right shoulder, and off to the store.
Happily, we got a nice driver, and quickly, too.
He had an interesting story. Apparently, this morning a woman riding Metrolift said she needed to use the bathroom, urgently, and directed the driver to a store. The driver pulled up, the client got out and went inside.
15 minutes later she went looking for the client, who was sitting at a table. "I ordered some food! I'm not leaving yet!" The driver called dispatch and was told to LEAVE HER.
I don't envy her when she was ready to leave. I bet they made her wait HOURS while "Looking for a driver". Every single thing a client does builds a reputation; the question is what kind.
From now on, that client will not be viewed kindly by the drivers. It's one thing if you need an unscheduled stop, it's another thing entirely if you lie to the driver and treat them like your personal lackey.
Foolish.
One time a driver came to pick us up. "It was time to go home, and they gave me an extra trip. I was going to refuse it, but then I saw it was you."
That's the kind of reputation I want.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Some Random Facts
Just for fun:
- I seldom call my husband by his real name, and only when discussing him with a 3rd party.
- I never call "Mr Black" (the cat) by his real name, either. He is Bubba or Bubby.
- I own 2 bottles of perfume: Tea Rose and Jean Nate. I love them both.
- I will buy generic anything, except for the following: automatic dishwashing packs, toilet paper, toothpaste, toilet bowl cleaner, and tampons.
- Even though I'm married to a blind man, I am terrible about getting my eyes checked. I am 2 years overdue.
- I'm glad I have to wear my glasses all the time, especially when I see other people losing their reading glasses.
- I think I look wierd without glasses.
- I could happily eat sausage at every meal.
- I live in an orange house. My bedroom is painted a deep gold.
- The most expensive furniture items, the beds, cost about $400 each. Everything else is pretty much Ikea's basic lines.
- I sleep with 3 pillows stacked in a pyramid formation.
- I always sleep with 2 covers, minimum. Currently 2 cotton bedspreads.
- I only use 100% cotton sheets. I can't stand polyester.
- I only wear 100% cotton t-shirts.
- I seldom wear pastels. I currently own one pastel t-shirt, in lavender.
- I wear a t-shirt, bermuda shorts or jeans, and a matching bandanna tucked into my belt.
- I don't own a single pair of heels.
- I have 2 pairs of sneakers that I rotate. I have another pair I wear for yard work. The cat got sick on them after I retired them. The sneakers only cost about $15 each.
- I tend to be very frugal when it comes to spending money on myself, but if it's for God or my loved ones, I spend more freely.
- I tend to eat the same food over and over until I'm sick of it.
- If I won the lotto, other than a personal driver my big indulgence would be a beverage bar, featuring my favorite sodas (Diet RC, Diet Dr, Diet Sunkist for Ron, Caffeine free Diet Coke, unsweetened tea, and Coke for visitors)
- I collect bandanas, but when properly medicated can walk away from a display without even picking one up.
- I rarely eat without taking some kind of "mood" pill. They must all be taken with food, so I'm conditioned to reach for my pill box.
- I figure when I die, it will either be murder, accident, heart, or cancer.
- I am delighted I have such a violent allergic reaction to wheat; I'm the only person I know who got hives after taking communion at a church.
- I don't mind any kind of physical labor if I can maneuver safely, but I would do anything to avoid any kind of spoken instruction.
- I only watch TV with the captioning on.
- Whenever I urinate, I thank God for a healthy body.
- I spend too much time thinking and looking at the 20 pounds I have to lose, and not the 60 pounds I have lost and kept off.
- I am terrible at losing important things, so I entrust them all to Ron.
The three best
I didn't sleep well last night, excited about the photo shoot at the Blood Center. Ron can't drive me around, but he likes "taking care" of things like our Metrolift trips. We had a trip to go to the Blood Center downtown.
So, I got up, took my shower, did some light mineral makeup (turns out the makeup artist HATES mineral makeup), and my hair. I was happy with the hair. I always have trouble doing my eyes so I left them naked. Turns out I didn't need to do ANYTHING to myself makeup wise.
I put a mask on Ron's forehead and peeled it off. [laugh] Now he had a fresh and exfoliated forehead. The makeup artist commented on our "great color", I didn't tell her we don't use sunscreen. I trimmed his beard and put a little gel in his hair.
The shirts I picked are cobalt blue, I brought Ron's and wore mine. I had a tote bag with my Dr Pepper stash, some driver candy, my backpack, and the shirts.
Ron and I were worried we'd be stuffed in the back of a taxi, but they sent a big van. We had 2 other pickups and then they got dropped off. Then us. It was 1 hour before the appointment.
Ramona, the publicity lady, was already in the lobby. Ron and I said we were there to "break the camera" and they all laughed. We waited a bit. Boy, I had to pee! The building is very secure and one has to have a security badge that is swiped to open doors. Nice to know they are so protective of the blood supply!
At 10:30, we went upstairs. Bathroom! We were in a room that could seat 145 people. They had a big backdrop, cameras, and lighting. They had a table with a couple of people. They had a table with some snacks and an ice chest full of drinks. Makeup lady had one whole corner.
The photographer and Blood Center employees were delighted to hear Ron and I had matching shirts. They immediately wanted Ron in his. I took his shirt off and they gaped at his chest. He has some pretty impressive scars! I helped him put on his shirt and then it was off to makeup.
I sat on a tall director-style chair. She went after me for about 5 minutes. Lots of sponging, powdering, attention to undereye bags, eyes and eyebrows were lined. She even put foundation on my chest! I wasn't wearing anything slutty but it did have a somewhat lower neckline, about 3 inches below the collarbone. She "evened it out". Blush, you name it. I didn't recognize myself. I thought it looked a little theatrical and overdone, but reminded myself she is a pr0fessional. I figured I needed to be emphasized so I looked OK.
I have never seen a "Made-up" looking person in the publicity photos. They all look very natural. She did some powder for Ron and fixed his hair. She even combed and hairsprayed his beard!
Then photo time. We both sat in chairs. Smile! Smile! My aunt came in about this time and said I looked a little strained, but later on I was laughing and looked "A lot better". Standing up, sitting down. Turn, chin up, just right... SNAP.
Oh, I forgot to mention they had me take off my glasses. I have "Transistions" lenses and the photographer said he'd have problems, so I took them off. The cameraman really liked Ron. He gave very clear directions to Ron and Ron would adjust accordingly.
I kept smiling and smiling. At one point my face got kind of stuck and I had to make faces for a few seconds to get it "better". It was funny. I am sure some of the photos suck. But I am sure some of them came out well.
It is hard work! I am glad I'm not a model. I'm glad I'm not on TV or anything, either.
After it was over, I got a Diet Coke out of the cooler. Ramona gave us each a t-shirt and a nice letter. We had already signed our releases. I drank my pop and chatted with my aunt.
Then, off to the House of Pies for lunch. Ron and I each had a chopped steak with eggs. My aunt had some kind of Mexican egg and meat dish. I had a piece of pie for dessert, I hope I don't regret that. The Metrolift trip home was going to be a monster, so my aunt gave us a ride. We had a good time!
As we left, Ramona said they will be sending me a CD with the three best photos. Retouched. I can use them however I want.
So, I got up, took my shower, did some light mineral makeup (turns out the makeup artist HATES mineral makeup), and my hair. I was happy with the hair. I always have trouble doing my eyes so I left them naked. Turns out I didn't need to do ANYTHING to myself makeup wise.
I put a mask on Ron's forehead and peeled it off. [laugh] Now he had a fresh and exfoliated forehead. The makeup artist commented on our "great color", I didn't tell her we don't use sunscreen. I trimmed his beard and put a little gel in his hair.
The shirts I picked are cobalt blue, I brought Ron's and wore mine. I had a tote bag with my Dr Pepper stash, some driver candy, my backpack, and the shirts.
Ron and I were worried we'd be stuffed in the back of a taxi, but they sent a big van. We had 2 other pickups and then they got dropped off. Then us. It was 1 hour before the appointment.
Ramona, the publicity lady, was already in the lobby. Ron and I said we were there to "break the camera" and they all laughed. We waited a bit. Boy, I had to pee! The building is very secure and one has to have a security badge that is swiped to open doors. Nice to know they are so protective of the blood supply!
At 10:30, we went upstairs. Bathroom! We were in a room that could seat 145 people. They had a big backdrop, cameras, and lighting. They had a table with a couple of people. They had a table with some snacks and an ice chest full of drinks. Makeup lady had one whole corner.
The photographer and Blood Center employees were delighted to hear Ron and I had matching shirts. They immediately wanted Ron in his. I took his shirt off and they gaped at his chest. He has some pretty impressive scars! I helped him put on his shirt and then it was off to makeup.
I sat on a tall director-style chair. She went after me for about 5 minutes. Lots of sponging, powdering, attention to undereye bags, eyes and eyebrows were lined. She even put foundation on my chest! I wasn't wearing anything slutty but it did have a somewhat lower neckline, about 3 inches below the collarbone. She "evened it out". Blush, you name it. I didn't recognize myself. I thought it looked a little theatrical and overdone, but reminded myself she is a pr0fessional. I figured I needed to be emphasized so I looked OK.
I have never seen a "Made-up" looking person in the publicity photos. They all look very natural. She did some powder for Ron and fixed his hair. She even combed and hairsprayed his beard!
Then photo time. We both sat in chairs. Smile! Smile! My aunt came in about this time and said I looked a little strained, but later on I was laughing and looked "A lot better". Standing up, sitting down. Turn, chin up, just right... SNAP.
Oh, I forgot to mention they had me take off my glasses. I have "Transistions" lenses and the photographer said he'd have problems, so I took them off. The cameraman really liked Ron. He gave very clear directions to Ron and Ron would adjust accordingly.
I kept smiling and smiling. At one point my face got kind of stuck and I had to make faces for a few seconds to get it "better". It was funny. I am sure some of the photos suck. But I am sure some of them came out well.
It is hard work! I am glad I'm not a model. I'm glad I'm not on TV or anything, either.
After it was over, I got a Diet Coke out of the cooler. Ramona gave us each a t-shirt and a nice letter. We had already signed our releases. I drank my pop and chatted with my aunt.
Then, off to the House of Pies for lunch. Ron and I each had a chopped steak with eggs. My aunt had some kind of Mexican egg and meat dish. I had a piece of pie for dessert, I hope I don't regret that. The Metrolift trip home was going to be a monster, so my aunt gave us a ride. We had a good time!
As we left, Ramona said they will be sending me a CD with the three best photos. Retouched. I can use them however I want.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Aren't they cute?
Hm. How to say this? Didn't get much sleep, but I didn't mind. That's good.
Got up early, completely tired. Shower, God Time, work. I am still getting the silent treatment from Grumpy, but in my opinion he doesn't look too far from a nervous breakdown anyway. I am glad I am being ignored.
I had a good time yakking at the other vendor ("Hot Legs"). I got the deliveries and stocked them. Thankfully, things are pretty quiet. I found the wholesale catalog. Yay!
As I was working, I got a phone call from the publicity coordinator for the photo shoot. She asked if I had any questions. I said I'd be bringing Ron, who was a donor AND recipient, and she was thrilled. She is scheduling him into the photo shoot too!
That is going to eat a certain group of haters, alive. Seeing us... happy and well. Oh! They will be enraged!
I figure they will take at least one photo of the both of us. After great deliberation, I narrowed my choices down to purple crewneck t-shirt (a very vivid hue often known as "grape"), and a deep cobalt blue. It is also a very vivid color. Today at the mall, I found another cobalt t-shirt for Ron. We'll be matchy!
AWWWWW. We will be so cute in our matching t-shirts. That is, if they like it. I plan to bring a lot of soda, a toothbrush, and my mineral makeup. Also the obvious Driver Candy too.
My aunt is coming early to watch, and I'll have her get a couple of snaps on MY camera. Gulp. I could end up on a billboard! I've seen them!
Got up early, completely tired. Shower, God Time, work. I am still getting the silent treatment from Grumpy, but in my opinion he doesn't look too far from a nervous breakdown anyway. I am glad I am being ignored.
I had a good time yakking at the other vendor ("Hot Legs"). I got the deliveries and stocked them. Thankfully, things are pretty quiet. I found the wholesale catalog. Yay!
As I was working, I got a phone call from the publicity coordinator for the photo shoot. She asked if I had any questions. I said I'd be bringing Ron, who was a donor AND recipient, and she was thrilled. She is scheduling him into the photo shoot too!
That is going to eat a certain group of haters, alive. Seeing us... happy and well. Oh! They will be enraged!
I figure they will take at least one photo of the both of us. After great deliberation, I narrowed my choices down to purple crewneck t-shirt (a very vivid hue often known as "grape"), and a deep cobalt blue. It is also a very vivid color. Today at the mall, I found another cobalt t-shirt for Ron. We'll be matchy!
AWWWWW. We will be so cute in our matching t-shirts. That is, if they like it. I plan to bring a lot of soda, a toothbrush, and my mineral makeup. Also the obvious Driver Candy too.
My aunt is coming early to watch, and I'll have her get a couple of snaps on MY camera. Gulp. I could end up on a billboard! I've seen them!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Stupid things I could do before the photo shoot Tuesday
I have had some really bad ideas.
- Take a laxative
- Do a steam room
- Try a new vitamin or skin care product (allergies!)
- Speaking of allergy, eat wheat and get hives.
- Not read labels
- Binge-eat due to nerves
- Take a large dose of fiber supplement
- Change my diet
- Consume too much caffeine and ruin my sleep cycle
- Eat sugar (GUARANTEED pimple).
I'm going to share one of my favorite songs. I never tire of it. It is Gospel Rap.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOsBE_xbSj0
From 2 minutes to 2:10, he talks about how he wants to "walk up in a country where sharing my faith may get me shot up" I always grin because I HAVE been shot up for my faith (BB gun, last year, carrying a sack of 50 New Testaments).
He is on FIRE for Jesus, with a terrible burden to share Him with the unreached. That's me. That is absolutely me. I have a terrible pain in my soul, thinking about the people who will die tonight and go to hell. I hurt, thinking of people living without Him.
Today, I had hoped to find a church with members who felt as I did. It was nice. They had coffee, and nice padded pews. But it left both of us completely unsatisfied. It wasn't just the hour-long sermon about giving. It wasn't the fact that I don't process 1/3 of what I hear anyway, due to the brain damage, or the fact that the Bible study guy was very soft-spoken and Ron couldn't understand a word. I just felt like everyone there was spiritually dead. [sigh]
They didn't seem to have any energy for God, much less any energy, desire, or motivation to go out and invite people to God's feast of salvation. If you have ever read "Living Water" by Brother Yun, you will understand when I say I felt like it was a Wet Blanket church.
Don't get me wrong; they were all completely nice. I did think the one lady grilling us on where we lived was a little intrusive, but people are judged in Houston by their address. I didn't think that was appropriate for a "first date".
I never really dated; not in the usual sense. I went out with male friends who developed an interest in me. Ron and I hit it off so fast... our first date was nachos from a walk-up place, eaten in the park while talking. I used to tease him about it; nachos are very messy and I've never cared about his table manners.
But today I got a feel for a "bad date". The same sense of disappointment and as Ron said "That's 3 hours of my life I'll never get back. At least we got a hamburger after." [sigh, shrug] If I have my way, there won't be a second. Why? I don't want to join them.
I have secret, unfulfilled fantasies. I dream of riding around in a car and cranking my Gospel Rap. I dream of having a Big Bible Handout day - setting up next to the road and handing out Bibles to anyone who'll roll a window down. Of buying a whole case of Bibles, having a party marking them up, and all of us, on fire, passing them out as led by the Holy Spirit. [big sigh] That will not happen, not yet.
Then I tell myself don't get discouraged. Yes, I am surrounded by churches and none of them fit. Yes, every church-attending person in my area seems spiritually dead and apathetic about the unreached. I am certain they all view me as some kind of deranged person.
I remind myself; Jesus said if 2 or more are gathered, He's with them. He will never leave ME. I have the Holy Spirit inside me, prompting me on my Bible/candy prep every single day of the year. The "Heavenly Host" is out to protect me and guide me in what I do.
I know, if nothing else: God is proud of me. My husband supports what I'm doing and is always happy to help. He brags about me standing on the corner, in the rain, to hand out Bibles. My family prays for my guidance and protection.
Thanks to my derangement, at least a thousand people have gotten Bibles. They've all ranged from delighted to baffled, but they took them. Some even delighted me by asking for more, for loved ones.
That's what matters.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOsBE_xbSj0
From 2 minutes to 2:10, he talks about how he wants to "walk up in a country where sharing my faith may get me shot up" I always grin because I HAVE been shot up for my faith (BB gun, last year, carrying a sack of 50 New Testaments).
He is on FIRE for Jesus, with a terrible burden to share Him with the unreached. That's me. That is absolutely me. I have a terrible pain in my soul, thinking about the people who will die tonight and go to hell. I hurt, thinking of people living without Him.
Today, I had hoped to find a church with members who felt as I did. It was nice. They had coffee, and nice padded pews. But it left both of us completely unsatisfied. It wasn't just the hour-long sermon about giving. It wasn't the fact that I don't process 1/3 of what I hear anyway, due to the brain damage, or the fact that the Bible study guy was very soft-spoken and Ron couldn't understand a word. I just felt like everyone there was spiritually dead. [sigh]
They didn't seem to have any energy for God, much less any energy, desire, or motivation to go out and invite people to God's feast of salvation. If you have ever read "Living Water" by Brother Yun, you will understand when I say I felt like it was a Wet Blanket church.
Don't get me wrong; they were all completely nice. I did think the one lady grilling us on where we lived was a little intrusive, but people are judged in Houston by their address. I didn't think that was appropriate for a "first date".
I never really dated; not in the usual sense. I went out with male friends who developed an interest in me. Ron and I hit it off so fast... our first date was nachos from a walk-up place, eaten in the park while talking. I used to tease him about it; nachos are very messy and I've never cared about his table manners.
But today I got a feel for a "bad date". The same sense of disappointment and as Ron said "That's 3 hours of my life I'll never get back. At least we got a hamburger after." [sigh, shrug] If I have my way, there won't be a second. Why? I don't want to join them.
I have secret, unfulfilled fantasies. I dream of riding around in a car and cranking my Gospel Rap. I dream of having a Big Bible Handout day - setting up next to the road and handing out Bibles to anyone who'll roll a window down. Of buying a whole case of Bibles, having a party marking them up, and all of us, on fire, passing them out as led by the Holy Spirit. [big sigh] That will not happen, not yet.
Then I tell myself don't get discouraged. Yes, I am surrounded by churches and none of them fit. Yes, every church-attending person in my area seems spiritually dead and apathetic about the unreached. I am certain they all view me as some kind of deranged person.
I remind myself; Jesus said if 2 or more are gathered, He's with them. He will never leave ME. I have the Holy Spirit inside me, prompting me on my Bible/candy prep every single day of the year. The "Heavenly Host" is out to protect me and guide me in what I do.
I know, if nothing else: God is proud of me. My husband supports what I'm doing and is always happy to help. He brags about me standing on the corner, in the rain, to hand out Bibles. My family prays for my guidance and protection.
Thanks to my derangement, at least a thousand people have gotten Bibles. They've all ranged from delighted to baffled, but they took them. Some even delighted me by asking for more, for loved ones.
That's what matters.
He isn't bound to the wheelchair
I have been leaning on Ron a little more lately. He is happy to have me do it. I read him yesterday's blog and he listened. That was awesome. I really enjoy our early morning talks, before I do my God time. Talk to my husband, talk to God, ready to go.
I really enjoy our outings, too. I am certain most people's idea of "fun" does not include pushing 140 pound spouse, in a wheelchair, up to a few miles a day in the sun on feels-like-100, and riding the "scary" bus. But I'm not most people! [laughing]
I'm sure "normal" looks at a wheelchair as horribly oppressive symbol of debility and handicap. "I'm wheelchair bound - my life is over now." Pah! For us, the wheelchair is a wonderfully liberating tool. Today, Ron wanted to go to Starbucks. He knew he could get there because we had the wheelchair. He was able to walk as far as he could, and then tell me when he needed to ride. He knows I view pushing him as "no big deal" and that I'm simply grateful to God for a strong body.
I continue to marvel at how Ron and I perfectly compliment each other. You'd think I'd be more accustomed to it after 18 years, but I'm not. And the wheelchair? It's a useful tool - I look at it probably the way you look at your car. It's a great, durable tool. It has flown cross country, traveled on a cruise ship, ridden the Greyhound, and rolled in the sand at Galveston. It's gone up and down seawalls, countless Wal-marts, over plush carpeting and cracked sidewalk. It's held up Ron's skinny butt in any situation, and offered me a comfy respite from standing on more than one occasion (he stands up for a bit, while I sit). I love it. I consider it a member of the family.
I hate the whole "bondage" thing too. "He's WHEELCHAIR BOUND". Oh, please! Maybe I'm just a sick-minded pervert, but when I hear wheelchair bound, I think of some skinny white dude, in a leather mask, naked, tied up in a wheelchair. Not a pleasant image! Even if Ron were paralyzed and unable to stand, he wouldn't be bound to the chair - liberated by it. Can you imagine life for the paralyzed before the invention of wheelchairs? They must have had to crawl, be carried or dragged everywhere they went. In the New Testament, a paralyzed man is carried by his friends (Mark Chapter 2). So, for someone with a disability, a wheelchair is actually an object of liberation. Because of the chair, they can go places, do things, and have a great time with their loved ones.
I really enjoy our outings, too. I am certain most people's idea of "fun" does not include pushing 140 pound spouse, in a wheelchair, up to a few miles a day in the sun on feels-like-100, and riding the "scary" bus. But I'm not most people! [laughing]
I'm sure "normal" looks at a wheelchair as horribly oppressive symbol of debility and handicap. "I'm wheelchair bound - my life is over now." Pah! For us, the wheelchair is a wonderfully liberating tool. Today, Ron wanted to go to Starbucks. He knew he could get there because we had the wheelchair. He was able to walk as far as he could, and then tell me when he needed to ride. He knows I view pushing him as "no big deal" and that I'm simply grateful to God for a strong body.
I continue to marvel at how Ron and I perfectly compliment each other. You'd think I'd be more accustomed to it after 18 years, but I'm not. And the wheelchair? It's a useful tool - I look at it probably the way you look at your car. It's a great, durable tool. It has flown cross country, traveled on a cruise ship, ridden the Greyhound, and rolled in the sand at Galveston. It's gone up and down seawalls, countless Wal-marts, over plush carpeting and cracked sidewalk. It's held up Ron's skinny butt in any situation, and offered me a comfy respite from standing on more than one occasion (he stands up for a bit, while I sit). I love it. I consider it a member of the family.
I hate the whole "bondage" thing too. "He's WHEELCHAIR BOUND". Oh, please! Maybe I'm just a sick-minded pervert, but when I hear wheelchair bound, I think of some skinny white dude, in a leather mask, naked, tied up in a wheelchair. Not a pleasant image! Even if Ron were paralyzed and unable to stand, he wouldn't be bound to the chair - liberated by it. Can you imagine life for the paralyzed before the invention of wheelchairs? They must have had to crawl, be carried or dragged everywhere they went. In the New Testament, a paralyzed man is carried by his friends (Mark Chapter 2). So, for someone with a disability, a wheelchair is actually an object of liberation. Because of the chair, they can go places, do things, and have a great time with their loved ones.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
"I thought I had it bad!"
Ron and I have a whole wheelbarrow load of problems; mutual brain damage, my mental illness, his peripheral neuropathy, blindness, hearing loss, arthritis, and hemiparesis. Neither of us can drive and he has to use a wheelchair if he walks more than 100 feet. I challenge anyone to find a couple that gets more LIVING out of life.
Today was a great example; we went to work and did it all. We stocked. I unloaded an entire pallet of soda, rotated the inventory (Ever had a flat tasting canned soda? Horrible, isn't it?! No one will ever buy one from MY machine!), fixed a naughty coin mechanism, and did snacks. We agreed we will need a junk food delivery on Friday, which means a really early wakup. We talked shop and talked with the customers.
He asked me how I was doing, and I told him I'm starting to run depressed. For me, the depression cycle is like hiking along a cliff. If I can stay on the cliff, I'm OK. Starting to slip? Whip out the things I love list, do a few. Be gentle with myself, take extra medication, ask Ron for more quality time,.. and I don't fall in. If I fall in, it's damned hard to get out and the last time took over a month.
He asked what he could do to help. I told him, I had to run some errands today and I'd love to have him along. He made it happen, adjusting the trips so he could come along.
Ron used to walk into work all the time; the LONG way. On the weekend we have to go in "the long way". I have offered to go in and bring him the work wheelchair, but he always declines. He worries about me overdoing for him and getting burned out. [I made my vows for life and barring physical abuse or adultery I'm there]
Last time, he walked in... but it was very painful. He was extremely grateful I met him halfway with the wheelchair. This morning he told me "It's a wheelchair" and I knew he couldn't face it again.
No big deal to me [shrug]. I want him comfortable. If that means he's in a chair, so what? I don't care if I have to push him; it's fun for me. I have good physical strength.
I still can't find my debit card, I have a terrible time with housekeeping and keeping track of important things, but I have good strength! Ron has very limited strength, but is strong where I'm weak. We make a good team.
So I pushed him and out of work, happy to do it. We had the chair; so he could come along on my errands. We went to Starbucks. We went to a food place he likes. We went to the mall! We went to a gas station for cold soda! We rode several buses; and on one trip something funny happened.
Ron and I had an encounter a few months after his accident. A neighbor asked Ron how he had ended up in the wheelchair; he had seen Ron walking all over, nothing for months, and now Ron in a wheelchair. Ron was obviously very scarred up and partially paralyzed on his right side. Ron told him.
Oh, I remember that, you messed up traffic for hours! Then he gave Ron a long, considering look we'd see often. "Man, I thought I had it bad!" It turned out that the guy was actually a violent ex-con who liked raping women. Thank God I didn't know at the time! [shudder] Thank you, God, for your protection!
So, I have seen that look a lot in the last several years. I can practically caption it. I don't mind that look, because Ron thinks maybe that's part of God's purpose for him, to make people realize that someone out there has a much more difficult life!
I do take great exception to rude, gapey, stares. Yes, he is blind. Yes, he is blind and in a wheelchair. Get over it! When I'm properly medicated I just ignore them, but if my balance is off I get pretty hostile.
So, anyway, the violent-looking, homeless, ex-con with the beer can in a paper bag was giving Ron that look today. I, sadly, recognize the look of a prison tattoo. He had several. The sight of Ron really seemed to get him thinking, especially since we were "cutting up" at the time.
As I headed over to my bank to turn off my debit card, because I just can't find the thing, I reminded myself God needs me like this. With the brain damage. If I were sharper, I'd be driving, and then I wouldn't be riding the buses and handing out Driver Candy. [shrug] I handed out a lot today.
I remind myself that I am a unique tool, created by God for a purpose, and what I see as flaws are actually assets. Ron loves being able to pay all the bills, because I lose them. Ron loves it when I ask him for advice on things; which I do pretty often. Ron likes helping ME out, too. I need it! We really do take care of each other.
So, we had a good day. It was pretty funny towards the end. Ron hardly drinks any liquid. I am sneaky and always have lots of wonderful fresh fruit around the house. He is currently gobbling up some pineapple. He loves that it contains anti-inflammatory things that help with his arthritis. "Oh, it's so cold and refreshing" he gulps.
I had pushed him all over the place, at least a mile or so, in extreme heat and humidity. I went into a store and bought a nice cold Powerade Zero. I drank quite a bit and then offered some to Ron. "No thanks".
I reminded him he'd been out in the heat for a while. "I'd like to try it, but what if it tastes bad? Then I'm stuck with that taste in my mouth!" I told him I had some Diet Dr Peppers. He finally consented.
He took a sip. Then he took another one. I got him to drink about a cup before he stopped. "That's GOOD!"
We both had a good day. I still want to beat myself up for "losing things". I feel "fat". I am mildly freaked out over this photo shoot. I wonder where I put our latest wholesale catalog! The house is messy, and I'm just too tired to do much.
I'm doing what God's got for me to do. That's a big deal. Ron is happy and healthy; I have a healthy marriage and a strong faith life. I have a husband who was delighted to hold the Driver Candy as I got the wheelchair onto the bus, and grinned as I handed it out.
Thank God. He's perfect for me.
Today was a great example; we went to work and did it all. We stocked. I unloaded an entire pallet of soda, rotated the inventory (Ever had a flat tasting canned soda? Horrible, isn't it?! No one will ever buy one from MY machine!), fixed a naughty coin mechanism, and did snacks. We agreed we will need a junk food delivery on Friday, which means a really early wakup. We talked shop and talked with the customers.
He asked me how I was doing, and I told him I'm starting to run depressed. For me, the depression cycle is like hiking along a cliff. If I can stay on the cliff, I'm OK. Starting to slip? Whip out the things I love list, do a few. Be gentle with myself, take extra medication, ask Ron for more quality time,.. and I don't fall in. If I fall in, it's damned hard to get out and the last time took over a month.
He asked what he could do to help. I told him, I had to run some errands today and I'd love to have him along. He made it happen, adjusting the trips so he could come along.
Ron used to walk into work all the time; the LONG way. On the weekend we have to go in "the long way". I have offered to go in and bring him the work wheelchair, but he always declines. He worries about me overdoing for him and getting burned out. [I made my vows for life and barring physical abuse or adultery I'm there]
Last time, he walked in... but it was very painful. He was extremely grateful I met him halfway with the wheelchair. This morning he told me "It's a wheelchair" and I knew he couldn't face it again.
No big deal to me [shrug]. I want him comfortable. If that means he's in a chair, so what? I don't care if I have to push him; it's fun for me. I have good physical strength.
I still can't find my debit card, I have a terrible time with housekeeping and keeping track of important things, but I have good strength! Ron has very limited strength, but is strong where I'm weak. We make a good team.
So I pushed him and out of work, happy to do it. We had the chair; so he could come along on my errands. We went to Starbucks. We went to a food place he likes. We went to the mall! We went to a gas station for cold soda! We rode several buses; and on one trip something funny happened.
Ron and I had an encounter a few months after his accident. A neighbor asked Ron how he had ended up in the wheelchair; he had seen Ron walking all over, nothing for months, and now Ron in a wheelchair. Ron was obviously very scarred up and partially paralyzed on his right side. Ron told him.
Oh, I remember that, you messed up traffic for hours! Then he gave Ron a long, considering look we'd see often. "Man, I thought I had it bad!" It turned out that the guy was actually a violent ex-con who liked raping women. Thank God I didn't know at the time! [shudder] Thank you, God, for your protection!
So, I have seen that look a lot in the last several years. I can practically caption it. I don't mind that look, because Ron thinks maybe that's part of God's purpose for him, to make people realize that someone out there has a much more difficult life!
I do take great exception to rude, gapey, stares. Yes, he is blind. Yes, he is blind and in a wheelchair. Get over it! When I'm properly medicated I just ignore them, but if my balance is off I get pretty hostile.
So, anyway, the violent-looking, homeless, ex-con with the beer can in a paper bag was giving Ron that look today. I, sadly, recognize the look of a prison tattoo. He had several. The sight of Ron really seemed to get him thinking, especially since we were "cutting up" at the time.
As I headed over to my bank to turn off my debit card, because I just can't find the thing, I reminded myself God needs me like this. With the brain damage. If I were sharper, I'd be driving, and then I wouldn't be riding the buses and handing out Driver Candy. [shrug] I handed out a lot today.
I remind myself that I am a unique tool, created by God for a purpose, and what I see as flaws are actually assets. Ron loves being able to pay all the bills, because I lose them. Ron loves it when I ask him for advice on things; which I do pretty often. Ron likes helping ME out, too. I need it! We really do take care of each other.
So, we had a good day. It was pretty funny towards the end. Ron hardly drinks any liquid. I am sneaky and always have lots of wonderful fresh fruit around the house. He is currently gobbling up some pineapple. He loves that it contains anti-inflammatory things that help with his arthritis. "Oh, it's so cold and refreshing" he gulps.
I had pushed him all over the place, at least a mile or so, in extreme heat and humidity. I went into a store and bought a nice cold Powerade Zero. I drank quite a bit and then offered some to Ron. "No thanks".
I reminded him he'd been out in the heat for a while. "I'd like to try it, but what if it tastes bad? Then I'm stuck with that taste in my mouth!" I told him I had some Diet Dr Peppers. He finally consented.
He took a sip. Then he took another one. I got him to drink about a cup before he stopped. "That's GOOD!"
We both had a good day. I still want to beat myself up for "losing things". I feel "fat". I am mildly freaked out over this photo shoot. I wonder where I put our latest wholesale catalog! The house is messy, and I'm just too tired to do much.
I'm doing what God's got for me to do. That's a big deal. Ron is happy and healthy; I have a healthy marriage and a strong faith life. I have a husband who was delighted to hold the Driver Candy as I got the wheelchair onto the bus, and grinned as I handed it out.
Thank God. He's perfect for me.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Hoarders and executive functions
I have to be careful, I have real hoarding genes. It's emotional, genetic, and physical. Truly. The Executive functions of my brain are damaged. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Executive_functions
Anyway, I have gone into this at some length. I look around, finally NOTICE and get overwhelmed. I have figured out a little system that I use:
1. Throw away obvious trash.
2. Put donatable things in the bag
3. Figure out what to do with what's left.
With the #3 items, I have to look at it. What is it? Take Ron's CAT scan films. The neurologist gave them to us. What the heck category is that? The only other "medical" stuff we have; home health care equipment, prescriptions, and Ron's wallet sized Medicare card in his wallet! I will have to consult him; for now since they are 'visual" I have put them on the bookcase.
Then I have things like the yarn problem. Any crafter knows about the yarn problem. I need to seriously go through and get rid of all save one garbage bag of yarn. I love yarn. It is pretty, so much potential, and very cheap. It is dangerous too!
I need to donate 80% of the yarn, get all my needles and hooks together and put them on a bookcase shelf.
See, what brought all this on: Ron and I know a hoarder, I mean a HARD CORE hoarder. The kind of hoarder where they can't walk into certain rooms, and big piles of stuff all over. I am well aware I am not far from that, if I'm not careful.
Ron called me from the other room; Heather! So and so's house is on TV! I tuned to the channel; it was the show about hoarders. I listened to the husband ranting angrily and realized how much he sounded like Ron.
I like being married. I love my husband. Needless to say I spent the next hour picking up the front room! I have a nice big garbage bag, a substantial contribution to the donate pile (I even had to get another bag), and a lot more floor space. I didn't "get it all"; frankly, I have to go to bed.
I have lots of clean clothes on my bed that need to be put away. I didn't do the dirty clothes, but I am happy with what I accomplished.
Oh, and after 2.4 hours I washed out the henna. I like it; very subtle. My hair looks brown, not brown + gray. It is about the same color value and tone it was before; I hate it when I use a hair product and it makes my hair a lot darker. I like having BROWN hair. My scalp feels great and my hair, soft. I will post the name and all tomorrow.
Anyway, time to go. I hope you have a GOOD night! (((hugs))
Anyway, I have gone into this at some length. I look around, finally NOTICE and get overwhelmed. I have figured out a little system that I use:
1. Throw away obvious trash.
2. Put donatable things in the bag
3. Figure out what to do with what's left.
With the #3 items, I have to look at it. What is it? Take Ron's CAT scan films. The neurologist gave them to us. What the heck category is that? The only other "medical" stuff we have; home health care equipment, prescriptions, and Ron's wallet sized Medicare card in his wallet! I will have to consult him; for now since they are 'visual" I have put them on the bookcase.
Then I have things like the yarn problem. Any crafter knows about the yarn problem. I need to seriously go through and get rid of all save one garbage bag of yarn. I love yarn. It is pretty, so much potential, and very cheap. It is dangerous too!
I need to donate 80% of the yarn, get all my needles and hooks together and put them on a bookcase shelf.
See, what brought all this on: Ron and I know a hoarder, I mean a HARD CORE hoarder. The kind of hoarder where they can't walk into certain rooms, and big piles of stuff all over. I am well aware I am not far from that, if I'm not careful.
Ron called me from the other room; Heather! So and so's house is on TV! I tuned to the channel; it was the show about hoarders. I listened to the husband ranting angrily and realized how much he sounded like Ron.
I like being married. I love my husband. Needless to say I spent the next hour picking up the front room! I have a nice big garbage bag, a substantial contribution to the donate pile (I even had to get another bag), and a lot more floor space. I didn't "get it all"; frankly, I have to go to bed.
I have lots of clean clothes on my bed that need to be put away. I didn't do the dirty clothes, but I am happy with what I accomplished.
Oh, and after 2.4 hours I washed out the henna. I like it; very subtle. My hair looks brown, not brown + gray. It is about the same color value and tone it was before; I hate it when I use a hair product and it makes my hair a lot darker. I like having BROWN hair. My scalp feels great and my hair, soft. I will post the name and all tomorrow.
Anyway, time to go. I hope you have a GOOD night! (((hugs))
Friday
I'm feeling a little scrambled so this may come out that way. I hope it's coherent.
I got up when I felt like it, did my shower and God time. Ron and I had talked a little when I first got up.
He tends to sleep afternoon-evening, and stay up late night to early morning. He is in his best mood in the early morning so I enjoy getting up a little early to talk. We had a decent chat.
I took my shower, did my God Time. I told him I was getting ready to leave. His mood had changed abruptly and he wanted me to read a long, depressing "why" letter. Why? Why? I don't know.
I told him I didn't know what he wanted me to say, could he please let me know what he wanted? He got upset. [scratching my head] I don't see how I could have done it any differently. I told him I WOULD miss a bus if I didn't go, and left.
[Bubba just came in and growled at the window. It is raining. Now off to Daddy for treats.]
I got some fast food, and the cashier told everyone in the restaurant how much weight I had lost. [laugh] I was feeling kind of chubby so that did me a lot of good. I ate my bunless burgers, took my medicine, and off to Foodtown.
I was cheap. I can get 2, 20 ounce sodas for about $2.50-$3 at the gas station. Or, I could get a SIX PACK of Diet Dr Pepper bottles, at Foodtown, for $2.50, AND get a quart of Powerade Zero for less than a dollar! I did that. I also got a frozen bottle of water they had.
I drank the Powerade first, I didn't want to get sick like I did the other day. [Intermission, I cleaned off the clay mask and got some "dinner"]. I had a pretty good time.
I found it kind of creepy at the bus stop. I don't know if they do it where you live, but here it is common to put up a little roadside shrine where someone has died. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roadside_memorial
Anyway, this one had a large laminated photo on top. The "victim" bore a remarkable resemblence to my mugger, so much so I actually checked the death date. No, he died BEFORE my mugging, but I wonder if he had a little brother!
So I sat there, with "Thug Boy" STARING at me. It was very disturbing. I am phobic and superstitious enough that I didn't cover it or anything, but it really creeped me out. I tried to call Ron, but he had his cell phone turned off all day. [rolleyes] Great. I sat there wondering how he died. Was he drunk? Speeding? About the time he died, we had a lot of rain. Maybe he was drunk, driving too fast, and skidded. [note I am beginning to get morbid here, later on I realized I am beginning to cycle depressed]
I tried to focus on other things, and decided that I should use it as motivation on the Bible handouts. I handed out a lot today, happily.
I had quite the list:
Go to Foodtown and get soda and drinks
Go to thrift store and look for church type dresses - I have some very casual, and very formal things and that's it.
Go to Favorite Dollar and get some sugarfree candy and baggies.
Go to Christian bookstore and look for bargains
Go to import store and get some new incense
Go to sporting goods store and shop cute tops for photo shoot
Go to Lady Footlocker and get t-shirts. They have some new colors I like, but they had the wrong sizes the last time I went to the other mall.
Go to the bank and shut debit card off; due to losing it (estatements are OK - so it must be here). I had been asking God if he wanted me to support a certain mission and I guess this is His way of saying "NO". Once I turn off the card... but the other, good, guys will be called and reset up.
That's a lot to do on the bus. I went to the thrift store, and found some utterly awful dresses. I kept looking and found a cute denim shirtdress. It is nicely tailored for me. I looked at some cute dresses with small prints, and realized, in the fitting room, that small prints really DO make me look fat. I got stuck halfway into a pretty blue dress, it was a 14 but apparently their 14 has a very flat chest. I almost had to get help. Poor Heather in her underwear, head and arms stuck in the dress! Pretty funny!
Thank God I escaped. I realized that while a couple of the dresses were cute, and one was on sale, they were not ME. The denim shirtdress met my requirements, short sleeved, longer, full skirt, tailored, and cute. It would be very cute with a belt.
I only have a few casual belts I picked up when completely manic last year. I hardly ever wore them. They are brightly colored with a row of grommets from one end to the other. I called my aunt, and asked her Fashion Police opinion.
"We" decided that a plain leather belt, in a cute color, would be better. I got a kelly green, and a black. I can wear the black with my other dress. When I got home, I discovered I had a red one, too. I think I will put the grommet ones in the donate bag.
So, I can wear a black, red, or green belt with the dress for now. I can always pick up a few more. I don't see the need to invest a lot of money into impressing other people when even the pastor says they are casual ("I'm the only one in a suit."). Since the dress is denim blue, I plan to have Ron wear his black slacks and the navy short sleeved oxford. We'll be cute. I also got a stretchy freshwater pearl bracelet for a dollar. Blue. Pretty.
I got all that packed up, handed out a few Bibles, and went off. The Dollar store was very busy, I decided to go back later. I went to the import store. I got some Mogra, Jasmine, 2 kinds of Rose, and Phool. What the heck IS Phool? Some kind of white flower, like Mogra and Jasmine. I like it a lot.
My all time favorite fragrance: roses. LOVE roses. I also love Jean Nate.
I checked out the Christian bookstore, didn't see anything, and left.
I doubled back to Favorite Dollar. I got some baggies, candy, duct tape (needed it for the lawnmower), and completely forgot I needed more lighters for the incense.
I realized depression was starting to kick me around. I always carry extra medication. I went to Starbucks and got my heavy whipping cream thing (sugarfree heavy whipping cream steamer). I took a lithium tablet and half a Wellbutrin; a good call.
I decided to go home. I just felt completely overwhelemed (still do, somewhat) at the thought of going anywhere. I did run by the grocery store on the way and got Ron some pineapple and jalapeno vienna sausages. Shopping when depressed: sucks!
I got home fine. I found it funny, at one point in my journey I was waiting at a bus stop. Two young black men passed me as they walked; and I gave them each a Bible! If the bus had been on time that couldn't have happened. [grin] God can ALWAYS use me, depressed or not!
I am really happy I got the TWO gallon ziplocks today. I fit an astounding amount of hard candy into them. I have a nice homemade mix. The last time I went to Sam's they were out of the hard candy assortment! I purchased some peppermints, spearmints, cinnamon, butterscotch, (got at Walmart) filled strawberry, and fruit assortment (today). That's a decent mix. Something for everyone.
I found half a cinnamon candy as I repackaged it, and took a lick off it before I threw it away. Yummy.
I passed the allergy test on the brown henna powder I got at the import store, so I went ahead and mixed it up. The directions say to pour the boiling water over the powder, mix, and let sit for a few hours, then apply to hair.
We have a heavy duty electric lawnmower. It has a very long, heavy duty extension cord. Ron ran over it a few times and spliced it. Well, the last time I used it it felt kind of WARM and I noticed some bare wire. That's not good. I used the duct tape to fix it, mowed the backyard, and checked the mail.
Letter from the Homeowner's Association. One of the things I love about my house is our big beautiful tree. Well, they want us to limb it up to 9 feet in the air. Probably some tall guy walking by hit his head and complained. UGH. Fortunately my uncle is an amateur arborist.
I took a shower and decided to do my hair. I applied the brown henna glop. I had some excitement, the applicator bottle clogged and I ended up with a huge, oozing, splat of henna on top of my head. I combed it in quickly. Now I'm sitting here with the glop on my head, under a shower cap. I put aloe gel around my hairline so the henna won't stain. Every now and then a trickle leaks out.
I'm feeling kind of stressed: I have to do a couple loads of laundry, put away the clean clothes I already washed, clean up around my bedside table, look for my wallet, clean up the other table, do my God Time, put the leftovers in the fridge, do dishes, etc. AGH.
I'm glad I at least did the henna thing, and the facial mask, and lit the incense. I just feel very harried and overwhelmed right now - that's a part of the depression.
I got up when I felt like it, did my shower and God time. Ron and I had talked a little when I first got up.
He tends to sleep afternoon-evening, and stay up late night to early morning. He is in his best mood in the early morning so I enjoy getting up a little early to talk. We had a decent chat.
I took my shower, did my God Time. I told him I was getting ready to leave. His mood had changed abruptly and he wanted me to read a long, depressing "why" letter. Why? Why? I don't know.
I told him I didn't know what he wanted me to say, could he please let me know what he wanted? He got upset. [scratching my head] I don't see how I could have done it any differently. I told him I WOULD miss a bus if I didn't go, and left.
[Bubba just came in and growled at the window. It is raining. Now off to Daddy for treats.]
I got some fast food, and the cashier told everyone in the restaurant how much weight I had lost. [laugh] I was feeling kind of chubby so that did me a lot of good. I ate my bunless burgers, took my medicine, and off to Foodtown.
I was cheap. I can get 2, 20 ounce sodas for about $2.50-$3 at the gas station. Or, I could get a SIX PACK of Diet Dr Pepper bottles, at Foodtown, for $2.50, AND get a quart of Powerade Zero for less than a dollar! I did that. I also got a frozen bottle of water they had.
I drank the Powerade first, I didn't want to get sick like I did the other day. [Intermission, I cleaned off the clay mask and got some "dinner"]. I had a pretty good time.
I found it kind of creepy at the bus stop. I don't know if they do it where you live, but here it is common to put up a little roadside shrine where someone has died. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roadside_memorial
Anyway, this one had a large laminated photo on top. The "victim" bore a remarkable resemblence to my mugger, so much so I actually checked the death date. No, he died BEFORE my mugging, but I wonder if he had a little brother!
So I sat there, with "Thug Boy" STARING at me. It was very disturbing. I am phobic and superstitious enough that I didn't cover it or anything, but it really creeped me out. I tried to call Ron, but he had his cell phone turned off all day. [rolleyes] Great. I sat there wondering how he died. Was he drunk? Speeding? About the time he died, we had a lot of rain. Maybe he was drunk, driving too fast, and skidded. [note I am beginning to get morbid here, later on I realized I am beginning to cycle depressed]
I tried to focus on other things, and decided that I should use it as motivation on the Bible handouts. I handed out a lot today, happily.
I had quite the list:
Go to Foodtown and get soda and drinks
Go to thrift store and look for church type dresses - I have some very casual, and very formal things and that's it.
Go to Favorite Dollar and get some sugarfree candy and baggies.
Go to Christian bookstore and look for bargains
Go to import store and get some new incense
Go to sporting goods store and shop cute tops for photo shoot
Go to Lady Footlocker and get t-shirts. They have some new colors I like, but they had the wrong sizes the last time I went to the other mall.
Go to the bank and shut debit card off; due to losing it (estatements are OK - so it must be here). I had been asking God if he wanted me to support a certain mission and I guess this is His way of saying "NO". Once I turn off the card... but the other, good, guys will be called and reset up.
That's a lot to do on the bus. I went to the thrift store, and found some utterly awful dresses. I kept looking and found a cute denim shirtdress. It is nicely tailored for me. I looked at some cute dresses with small prints, and realized, in the fitting room, that small prints really DO make me look fat. I got stuck halfway into a pretty blue dress, it was a 14 but apparently their 14 has a very flat chest. I almost had to get help. Poor Heather in her underwear, head and arms stuck in the dress! Pretty funny!
Thank God I escaped. I realized that while a couple of the dresses were cute, and one was on sale, they were not ME. The denim shirtdress met my requirements, short sleeved, longer, full skirt, tailored, and cute. It would be very cute with a belt.
I only have a few casual belts I picked up when completely manic last year. I hardly ever wore them. They are brightly colored with a row of grommets from one end to the other. I called my aunt, and asked her Fashion Police opinion.
"We" decided that a plain leather belt, in a cute color, would be better. I got a kelly green, and a black. I can wear the black with my other dress. When I got home, I discovered I had a red one, too. I think I will put the grommet ones in the donate bag.
So, I can wear a black, red, or green belt with the dress for now. I can always pick up a few more. I don't see the need to invest a lot of money into impressing other people when even the pastor says they are casual ("I'm the only one in a suit."). Since the dress is denim blue, I plan to have Ron wear his black slacks and the navy short sleeved oxford. We'll be cute. I also got a stretchy freshwater pearl bracelet for a dollar. Blue. Pretty.
I got all that packed up, handed out a few Bibles, and went off. The Dollar store was very busy, I decided to go back later. I went to the import store. I got some Mogra, Jasmine, 2 kinds of Rose, and Phool. What the heck IS Phool? Some kind of white flower, like Mogra and Jasmine. I like it a lot.
My all time favorite fragrance: roses. LOVE roses. I also love Jean Nate.
I checked out the Christian bookstore, didn't see anything, and left.
I doubled back to Favorite Dollar. I got some baggies, candy, duct tape (needed it for the lawnmower), and completely forgot I needed more lighters for the incense.
I realized depression was starting to kick me around. I always carry extra medication. I went to Starbucks and got my heavy whipping cream thing (sugarfree heavy whipping cream steamer). I took a lithium tablet and half a Wellbutrin; a good call.
I decided to go home. I just felt completely overwhelemed (still do, somewhat) at the thought of going anywhere. I did run by the grocery store on the way and got Ron some pineapple and jalapeno vienna sausages. Shopping when depressed: sucks!
I got home fine. I found it funny, at one point in my journey I was waiting at a bus stop. Two young black men passed me as they walked; and I gave them each a Bible! If the bus had been on time that couldn't have happened. [grin] God can ALWAYS use me, depressed or not!
I am really happy I got the TWO gallon ziplocks today. I fit an astounding amount of hard candy into them. I have a nice homemade mix. The last time I went to Sam's they were out of the hard candy assortment! I purchased some peppermints, spearmints, cinnamon, butterscotch, (got at Walmart) filled strawberry, and fruit assortment (today). That's a decent mix. Something for everyone.
I found half a cinnamon candy as I repackaged it, and took a lick off it before I threw it away. Yummy.
I passed the allergy test on the brown henna powder I got at the import store, so I went ahead and mixed it up. The directions say to pour the boiling water over the powder, mix, and let sit for a few hours, then apply to hair.
We have a heavy duty electric lawnmower. It has a very long, heavy duty extension cord. Ron ran over it a few times and spliced it. Well, the last time I used it it felt kind of WARM and I noticed some bare wire. That's not good. I used the duct tape to fix it, mowed the backyard, and checked the mail.
Letter from the Homeowner's Association. One of the things I love about my house is our big beautiful tree. Well, they want us to limb it up to 9 feet in the air. Probably some tall guy walking by hit his head and complained. UGH. Fortunately my uncle is an amateur arborist.
I took a shower and decided to do my hair. I applied the brown henna glop. I had some excitement, the applicator bottle clogged and I ended up with a huge, oozing, splat of henna on top of my head. I combed it in quickly. Now I'm sitting here with the glop on my head, under a shower cap. I put aloe gel around my hairline so the henna won't stain. Every now and then a trickle leaks out.
I'm feeling kind of stressed: I have to do a couple loads of laundry, put away the clean clothes I already washed, clean up around my bedside table, look for my wallet, clean up the other table, do my God Time, put the leftovers in the fridge, do dishes, etc. AGH.
I'm glad I at least did the henna thing, and the facial mask, and lit the incense. I just feel very harried and overwhelmed right now - that's a part of the depression.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Say it Now!
Do you ever get the feeling, sometimes, that you don't have a lot of time? I do.
If I only had another week or two to blog, I would definitely cover this topic. Let me tell you a story:
I would like to take you back to January 6, 2003. Ron and I have been living together for about 10 and a half years. We have been running the two businesses (deli and vending) for about a year and a half. It's a tremendous amount of stress: the deli is losing money constantly. The vending business profits go into keeping the deli afloat.
Since it's a State program, we don't get to close the deli. We beg, and beg, and beg. NO! They reply. A tremendous amount of tension in our relationship. He gets up early every day, walks into work by himself, and receives the deliveries. He stocks the deliveries into the vending machines, comes home, and goes to bed. He will wake up around 3-4 PM.
I get up around 8, take care of the housework and cooking; often Ron and I go to the bank to make a deposit or run errands. I go into work and open the deli. Often I spend hours before opening engaged in food prep. We open the deli. It's just the 2 of us. Ron works the cash register.
I prepare all the food and work until the "girls" come in around 9. They take over and I help Ron with the vending. We work a few more hours, and then we go home. Usually, we get to bed around 11 or so every night. Ron often wakes up around 5 for the deliveries.
We're both sleep deprived. I have brain damage (known) and bipolar disorder (unknown). One night I was so weary on "chicken night" I went into the corner and began clucking like a very tired hen. I was exhausted.
So, on this particular night Ron and I are engaged in our usual routine. Ron got angry at me for some reason, I had "failed" him. He yelled at me and I told him "You're asking for too much! I'm only one person and a brain-damaged one at that!" He cursed and left the room, fuming.
Things were polite, yet tense as the deli opened. I did my usual job. He told me to sit down a couple times but I didn't have time; it took constant effort to keep things running smoothly. Just when I had a free minute, all the hot dogs had been sold and the chili bucket is almost empty. Not only that, I had to inventory all the product and keep it stocked. We had a tiny sink, not much bigger than a bathroom sink, in which to do dishes, always plenty of those. I tried to do as much as possible so the girls wouldn't come into a mess.
The girls got there and he asked to speak to me in the hall. Oh, great. I rolled my eyes. At least he didn't want to speak to me in the STOCKROOM. That's where all the yelling happened.
I went out, very tense. "I'm sorry". What? He never apologized, it seemed. "I do ask to much of you, and I'm a total jerk for yelling at you. Can you ever forgive me?" * I was still pretty pissed. I knew what God wanted me to do but I just didn't have it in me. I had 2 choices, blow him off, curse him out; or forgive him.
"Please, sit down at least now, I already asked the girls to make you your sandwich." I sat down as Debbie brought my my turkey and bacon on toast.
He sat down next to me. "Forgive me?" Yes, I replied, and hugged him.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted to kick my butt! Wanna?" He turned around. "Go ahead!" I laughed, and slapped his back. "DON'T DO THAT AGAIN! I always do my best!" He agreed.
Not 12 hours later, I was taken to see him. He was in Intensive Care. He had a massive head injury and chest trauma. He was not expected to live. Scroll back up to the star. Imagine if I had cursed him out!
Instead, as I waited 3 agonizing weeks for him to regain conciousness, I consoled myself with the thought that Ron knew I loved him as he crossed that street. He knew I had forgiven him.
Say it now. You may not get another chance.
If I only had another week or two to blog, I would definitely cover this topic. Let me tell you a story:
I would like to take you back to January 6, 2003. Ron and I have been living together for about 10 and a half years. We have been running the two businesses (deli and vending) for about a year and a half. It's a tremendous amount of stress: the deli is losing money constantly. The vending business profits go into keeping the deli afloat.
Since it's a State program, we don't get to close the deli. We beg, and beg, and beg. NO! They reply. A tremendous amount of tension in our relationship. He gets up early every day, walks into work by himself, and receives the deliveries. He stocks the deliveries into the vending machines, comes home, and goes to bed. He will wake up around 3-4 PM.
I get up around 8, take care of the housework and cooking; often Ron and I go to the bank to make a deposit or run errands. I go into work and open the deli. Often I spend hours before opening engaged in food prep. We open the deli. It's just the 2 of us. Ron works the cash register.
I prepare all the food and work until the "girls" come in around 9. They take over and I help Ron with the vending. We work a few more hours, and then we go home. Usually, we get to bed around 11 or so every night. Ron often wakes up around 5 for the deliveries.
We're both sleep deprived. I have brain damage (known) and bipolar disorder (unknown). One night I was so weary on "chicken night" I went into the corner and began clucking like a very tired hen. I was exhausted.
So, on this particular night Ron and I are engaged in our usual routine. Ron got angry at me for some reason, I had "failed" him. He yelled at me and I told him "You're asking for too much! I'm only one person and a brain-damaged one at that!" He cursed and left the room, fuming.
Things were polite, yet tense as the deli opened. I did my usual job. He told me to sit down a couple times but I didn't have time; it took constant effort to keep things running smoothly. Just when I had a free minute, all the hot dogs had been sold and the chili bucket is almost empty. Not only that, I had to inventory all the product and keep it stocked. We had a tiny sink, not much bigger than a bathroom sink, in which to do dishes, always plenty of those. I tried to do as much as possible so the girls wouldn't come into a mess.
The girls got there and he asked to speak to me in the hall. Oh, great. I rolled my eyes. At least he didn't want to speak to me in the STOCKROOM. That's where all the yelling happened.
I went out, very tense. "I'm sorry". What? He never apologized, it seemed. "I do ask to much of you, and I'm a total jerk for yelling at you. Can you ever forgive me?" * I was still pretty pissed. I knew what God wanted me to do but I just didn't have it in me. I had 2 choices, blow him off, curse him out; or forgive him.
"Please, sit down at least now, I already asked the girls to make you your sandwich." I sat down as Debbie brought my my turkey and bacon on toast.
He sat down next to me. "Forgive me?" Yes, I replied, and hugged him.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted to kick my butt! Wanna?" He turned around. "Go ahead!" I laughed, and slapped his back. "DON'T DO THAT AGAIN! I always do my best!" He agreed.
Not 12 hours later, I was taken to see him. He was in Intensive Care. He had a massive head injury and chest trauma. He was not expected to live. Scroll back up to the star. Imagine if I had cursed him out!
Instead, as I waited 3 agonizing weeks for him to regain conciousness, I consoled myself with the thought that Ron knew I loved him as he crossed that street. He knew I had forgiven him.
Say it now. You may not get another chance.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Taking prisoners
If you've been reading for a while, you have seen a change. I've gone from thinking about myself and my illness to thinking about God and what He wants for my life. I've gone from pleasing myself, to trying to please God.
I am well aware that doing so makes me a target for the Bad guy. He wants me out of commission. He knows, if he can't outright attack me (such attacks seem to be forbidden for now), he can attack those I love (Ron and the root canal, still hurting), and attack my thoughts. My illness [shrug] seems to be at a pretty good happy place right now; and I don't take that for granted.
We all have our weak spots. Mine seem to be bitterness and resentment; a fierce territorialism. Some paranoia and persecution complex, especially bad when I have "cause". I think I've DEALT with the old issues, but then they come back like some cursed dandelion. It reminds me of a tree I tried to cut down several times, it kept resprouting and gettting ever-more-vigorous. The worst is probably bitterness and self-pity.
So, pretty obvious how *I* have been attacked recently. Tremendous resentment and bitterness over past and present issues. I think about them far more than I'd like, and I have to make deliberate choices to turn it off. 3 minutes later I'm going down that same old road! AGH!
A dear friend at work shared this verse with me one day when I was just having a terrible time controlling my thoughts: Philippians 4:8 "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."
Another one God has been putting in my head recently: "Take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." 2 Corinthans 10:5 I have been reciting that one in my head a LOT the last couple days. "Lord, please help me to take these thoughts captive, and put Your thoughts in my head, Your love in my heart, and Your words in my mouth."
I have never read the "Praying scripture" books (Power of a praying...). I have a lot of skepticism, but it does seem to help.
So, I turn my anger over to God. I know He will deal with the issues. I get upset again, and turn it over to him AGAIN. I recite the Scriptures.
I was pretty upset over that guy at work, wondering why he felt like he could just unload on me. I know he has problems, but in my world you deal with your issues instead of turning your "friends" into toilets. I remind myself I wasn't much of a treat, for much of my life, and there's a real danger of me emulating the guy if I'm not careful. I take a big sigh and recite all my verses again.
I've had some older stuff come up too, and I have to keep leaving that issue with God. I believe in the law of sowing and reaping, that if you are sowing pain, you will reap it, too. The Hindus call it Karma. God does repay (Vengence is mine, I will repay - Hebrews 10:30).
I guess it's perfectly normal to have to forgive someone again and again and again. To have nothing in my heart that says "I forgive you"; and asking God to put the forgiveness in my heart. To ask God, again and again and again, to "Put Your thoughts in My head".
It really does feel like a war, taking my thoughts prisoner.
I am well aware that doing so makes me a target for the Bad guy. He wants me out of commission. He knows, if he can't outright attack me (such attacks seem to be forbidden for now), he can attack those I love (Ron and the root canal, still hurting), and attack my thoughts. My illness [shrug] seems to be at a pretty good happy place right now; and I don't take that for granted.
We all have our weak spots. Mine seem to be bitterness and resentment; a fierce territorialism. Some paranoia and persecution complex, especially bad when I have "cause". I think I've DEALT with the old issues, but then they come back like some cursed dandelion. It reminds me of a tree I tried to cut down several times, it kept resprouting and gettting ever-more-vigorous. The worst is probably bitterness and self-pity.
So, pretty obvious how *I* have been attacked recently. Tremendous resentment and bitterness over past and present issues. I think about them far more than I'd like, and I have to make deliberate choices to turn it off. 3 minutes later I'm going down that same old road! AGH!
A dear friend at work shared this verse with me one day when I was just having a terrible time controlling my thoughts: Philippians 4:8 "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."
Another one God has been putting in my head recently: "Take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." 2 Corinthans 10:5 I have been reciting that one in my head a LOT the last couple days. "Lord, please help me to take these thoughts captive, and put Your thoughts in my head, Your love in my heart, and Your words in my mouth."
I have never read the "Praying scripture" books (Power of a praying...). I have a lot of skepticism, but it does seem to help.
So, I turn my anger over to God. I know He will deal with the issues. I get upset again, and turn it over to him AGAIN. I recite the Scriptures.
I was pretty upset over that guy at work, wondering why he felt like he could just unload on me. I know he has problems, but in my world you deal with your issues instead of turning your "friends" into toilets. I remind myself I wasn't much of a treat, for much of my life, and there's a real danger of me emulating the guy if I'm not careful. I take a big sigh and recite all my verses again.
I've had some older stuff come up too, and I have to keep leaving that issue with God. I believe in the law of sowing and reaping, that if you are sowing pain, you will reap it, too. The Hindus call it Karma. God does repay (Vengence is mine, I will repay - Hebrews 10:30).
I guess it's perfectly normal to have to forgive someone again and again and again. To have nothing in my heart that says "I forgive you"; and asking God to put the forgiveness in my heart. To ask God, again and again and again, to "Put Your thoughts in My head".
It really does feel like a war, taking my thoughts prisoner.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Passing the torch
Today was just WIERD. Nothing like yesterday (thankyouJesus!) - just really different from my usual day.
I rode with "Tina" again, I love her to death, she is a very good driver and very friendly, but completely brainwashed into the low-fat thinking. She proudly showed me the fruit she brought to work, because she is doing an "all fruit" thing now. I didn't have the heart to tell her that those are some of the most pesticide-laden fruits available and they would probably harm her health in the long run. I think she may need to meet another low-carber before she "gets" it.
As I got out, I told her, I eat a POUND of GREASY red meat every day, and I'm healthy. I just avoid trash carbs and all forms of sugar. Her eyes bugged out. Maybe next time she might be willing to listen; in the meantime she is absolutely convinced I have eaten some kind of secret, low-fat plan that I'm not sharing! Any diet plan would freak out over the amount of diet sodas I consume.
I hadn't had the time to do my Bibles, and I had the number 16 in my head, so that's how many I brought. I brought the stuff separately, and sat down and did them for about an hour at the Starbucks after Ron went home. Ron felt pretty groggy and miserable, so he had a very short time at Starbucks. I sat there doing them up, getting stared at occasionally, offering one to passersby if they paused long enough, and stuck them all into a plastic "thank you" style bag, into my larger tote.
I love my Tote. I got it from Hobby Lobby and I find it funny that my Bible Distribution tote comes from a chain run by major Christians. They are actually getting ready to open a large Bible museum.
On another note, a while back I figured if I ever "named" "My ministry" I had the perfect name: Fruitful Distribution Ministries! I am ALWAYS asking God for "Fruitful Distribution!" I can hand out a million items; but if God hasn't worked on their heart it is worthless and I might as well throw it in a dumpster. For now, I just do what God tells me to do. Which, today, was going out into the heat.
It was ghastlyhot with a hideous heat index. Hot and sunny! Ugh! I went to "My" gas station. I imagine all of them are offering some kind of large fountain drink special. Mine did. I got a bucket of icy cold diet pop and 4 bottles of soda. I felt very clever, slipping them into my mesh backpack so I could feel the icy coldness on my back. I wore a microfiber T-shirt.
I walked and walked in the heat. Got pretty ill. Sweating a lot, not a good sign. Was it the Wellbutrin? The heat? I kept on slogging along, telling God "When I get to Walmart I am going to DISTRIBUTE as many of these very heavy Bibles as possible!" I began fantasizing about these cute little Bibles I've seen, very small and light. How easy to carry.
Started getting shaky and tight-headachy. Cursing at myself. Some fun day out! I got mad at God. Why are you letting me get sick when You're the one who sent me out like this! I have plans, I'm going to go to Walmart, and then go to the Christian bookstore, and then Favorite Dollar. I'll stop by the grocery store and get Ron some pineapple on the way home!
I barely made it over to a shopping cart in the parking lot, flung all my stuff in there, and rolled into the store. I sat down for a good 15 minutes. Still felt lousy but not like I needed an ambulance; an improvement. I had horrible visions of waking up in some emergency room.
Not a very uplifting post, huh? Well, I am in a spiritual battle every day, and especially when I walk out of the house with my Bible Distribution bag. I will have to abbreviate it to BD bag. I knew I could not carry those Bibles all day. I knew if I did, I would end up in the emergency room. I knew God wanted me to hand them out, so I resolved to pass out as many as I could, discreetly, in the store and then hopefully hand it off to an employee to re-distribute for me once I left.
I have had fun Bible handouts there before, I know God has done a lot of preparation work. I know, absolutely, that God put it on me to hand this off to someone; passing the Bible Distribution torch for the day. This person could get Bibles to people I couldn't. I kept my eyes and spirit open.
I staggered over to the bathroom, about to commit the unspeakable crime due to nasty cramping. I got in there in time and prayed. Poor God. I pray ANYWHERE. [laugh] I am sure so many of his loving children only pray in "nice" places; I don't.
I came out, and my eye was immediately drawn to a nice teenaged girl waiting, obviously, to fill out a job application. I gave her a Bible. She was really excited and her mother got interested, so I offered her one. I asked God what I should be drinking and my eye was drawn to the water fountain. I had a drink. Oh, refreshing. Normally I hate to drink water.
I got my plastic cup from the gas station and began filling it with water. The Mom decided she didn't want what I had to offer (God, rather) and put her Bible back in my tote bag. But, as I left, they were both examining the one I'd given the daughter. Go figure. That is a perfect vignette for Heather, the Bible Distributor. The people you don't think, do; the ones you think will; won't.
I felt lousy, but I figured God would send me the right person at the right time. I am proud enough that it would take this kind of illness to FORCE me to hand over the Bible bag to a stranger (or even a dear friend). I admit it. I am proud and stubborn, not necessarily a good quality. Did come in handy after Ron's accident when everyone had him dead or in a nursing home. I'm stubborn; and too proud to quit without a hellacious fight.
I had primarily come to the store to get a new alarm clock. Very annoying ongoing issue finally snapped me this morning and cost me some sleep. If I hit the wrong button, an hour of music unless I unplug it. AGH. I ended up unplugging my lamp in addition to the alarm clock!
So, new alarm clock. As soon as I asked, the lady said "Behind you" like they always do (I am terrible at asking for directions). I found a nice one for about $6. I also have that photo shoot coming up, and I want to have a fresh complexion. So I wanted to look at the facial stuff. I love my Neutrogena bar but maybe an exfoliator or alpha-hydroxy product.
I wobbled over there, and found a product that combined both, but the AVOID THE SUN FOR A WEEK warning kind of killed that. I found a nice generic brand exfoliator and stuck that in the cart.
I got some Powerade, I didn't know what had me sick (as near as I can guess, a combination of heat, lithium, anti-psychotic messing with heat tolerance, and maybe some low blood sodium), but figured any medical person would tell me to drink it. I got the Zero flavor, no sugar. I wasn't THAT sick! [laugh]
I felt sick enough that I decided; go home. Sick enough that the bus was out; and I decided to call a cab. I am pretty cheap. If I'm willing to cough up between $10 and $20, and I only have $50 left in my budget, I'm sick.
I remembered a very friendly checker and headed straight for her line, but she was closed. I picked another cashier. She was very kind and absolutely delighted with the Bible.
I knew it. "I have a wierd favor to ask..." Sure, she replied, happy to hand out the large thank-you-sack of Bibles bagged with scripture booklets and candy to "other employees". Awesome. I am praying for God to protect her job. I am a little worried about that, but it was obvious that God wanted me to pass her the torch today. That God has her back.
I just thought that was so interesting, like a very intricate puzzle. I had handed out other stuff before I got to Walmart; one day I may meet a few people who give me a yell "Thanks for the candy with the scripture booklet!"
I collapsed on bench. I was too tired to get the address and called Ron. Ron was feeling pretty perky and was happy to dispatch a cab. It arrived in 5 minutes; striking. Well, let's just say my alarm clock cost about $20 instead of $6! I could swallow that, especially when I reminded myself how expensive it is to ride in an ambulance, the embarrassment of passing out in public (I did that once from heat exhaustion as a teen - they didn't know antidepressants messed with heat tolerance), and the quietude and peace I'd find in my own bed.
The driver got a Bible, too. You KNEW that was coming. He was delighted with the tip. Hey, worth it! The way I see it, a cab driver is a superhero who rides to your rescue when you need him. I laid down for a couple hours after finishing off my Powerade. I have a slight headache and feel a little warm, but I know I'll be fine.
Ron is feeling a LOT better. Good. I hate to see him suffer, that must have been how he felt "watching" me on Saturday with the migraine.
All in all, a very odd day. Obviously the BD bag needs a rework on my Days Out. Do I bring my rolling bag? I did that Sunday and it worked OK. Do I skip the multiple stops? Just ride the bus to the shopping center and only stay there until I go home? I have a feeling it will mean that. Aggravating, I'm one of those busy bees wanting to fly all over and do lots of things.
God's trying to slow me down; I need to get better at listening. All I need to do tonight; take out the trash and cook up a nice stir-fry. I had a great dream during my nap, I was cooking delicious pork ribs. Ron loved them.
I rode with "Tina" again, I love her to death, she is a very good driver and very friendly, but completely brainwashed into the low-fat thinking. She proudly showed me the fruit she brought to work, because she is doing an "all fruit" thing now. I didn't have the heart to tell her that those are some of the most pesticide-laden fruits available and they would probably harm her health in the long run. I think she may need to meet another low-carber before she "gets" it.
As I got out, I told her, I eat a POUND of GREASY red meat every day, and I'm healthy. I just avoid trash carbs and all forms of sugar. Her eyes bugged out. Maybe next time she might be willing to listen; in the meantime she is absolutely convinced I have eaten some kind of secret, low-fat plan that I'm not sharing! Any diet plan would freak out over the amount of diet sodas I consume.
I hadn't had the time to do my Bibles, and I had the number 16 in my head, so that's how many I brought. I brought the stuff separately, and sat down and did them for about an hour at the Starbucks after Ron went home. Ron felt pretty groggy and miserable, so he had a very short time at Starbucks. I sat there doing them up, getting stared at occasionally, offering one to passersby if they paused long enough, and stuck them all into a plastic "thank you" style bag, into my larger tote.
I love my Tote. I got it from Hobby Lobby and I find it funny that my Bible Distribution tote comes from a chain run by major Christians. They are actually getting ready to open a large Bible museum.
On another note, a while back I figured if I ever "named" "My ministry" I had the perfect name: Fruitful Distribution Ministries! I am ALWAYS asking God for "Fruitful Distribution!" I can hand out a million items; but if God hasn't worked on their heart it is worthless and I might as well throw it in a dumpster. For now, I just do what God tells me to do. Which, today, was going out into the heat.
It was ghastlyhot with a hideous heat index. Hot and sunny! Ugh! I went to "My" gas station. I imagine all of them are offering some kind of large fountain drink special. Mine did. I got a bucket of icy cold diet pop and 4 bottles of soda. I felt very clever, slipping them into my mesh backpack so I could feel the icy coldness on my back. I wore a microfiber T-shirt.
I walked and walked in the heat. Got pretty ill. Sweating a lot, not a good sign. Was it the Wellbutrin? The heat? I kept on slogging along, telling God "When I get to Walmart I am going to DISTRIBUTE as many of these very heavy Bibles as possible!" I began fantasizing about these cute little Bibles I've seen, very small and light. How easy to carry.
Started getting shaky and tight-headachy. Cursing at myself. Some fun day out! I got mad at God. Why are you letting me get sick when You're the one who sent me out like this! I have plans, I'm going to go to Walmart, and then go to the Christian bookstore, and then Favorite Dollar. I'll stop by the grocery store and get Ron some pineapple on the way home!
I barely made it over to a shopping cart in the parking lot, flung all my stuff in there, and rolled into the store. I sat down for a good 15 minutes. Still felt lousy but not like I needed an ambulance; an improvement. I had horrible visions of waking up in some emergency room.
Not a very uplifting post, huh? Well, I am in a spiritual battle every day, and especially when I walk out of the house with my Bible Distribution bag. I will have to abbreviate it to BD bag. I knew I could not carry those Bibles all day. I knew if I did, I would end up in the emergency room. I knew God wanted me to hand them out, so I resolved to pass out as many as I could, discreetly, in the store and then hopefully hand it off to an employee to re-distribute for me once I left.
I have had fun Bible handouts there before, I know God has done a lot of preparation work. I know, absolutely, that God put it on me to hand this off to someone; passing the Bible Distribution torch for the day. This person could get Bibles to people I couldn't. I kept my eyes and spirit open.
I staggered over to the bathroom, about to commit the unspeakable crime due to nasty cramping. I got in there in time and prayed. Poor God. I pray ANYWHERE. [laugh] I am sure so many of his loving children only pray in "nice" places; I don't.
I came out, and my eye was immediately drawn to a nice teenaged girl waiting, obviously, to fill out a job application. I gave her a Bible. She was really excited and her mother got interested, so I offered her one. I asked God what I should be drinking and my eye was drawn to the water fountain. I had a drink. Oh, refreshing. Normally I hate to drink water.
I got my plastic cup from the gas station and began filling it with water. The Mom decided she didn't want what I had to offer (God, rather) and put her Bible back in my tote bag. But, as I left, they were both examining the one I'd given the daughter. Go figure. That is a perfect vignette for Heather, the Bible Distributor. The people you don't think, do; the ones you think will; won't.
I felt lousy, but I figured God would send me the right person at the right time. I am proud enough that it would take this kind of illness to FORCE me to hand over the Bible bag to a stranger (or even a dear friend). I admit it. I am proud and stubborn, not necessarily a good quality. Did come in handy after Ron's accident when everyone had him dead or in a nursing home. I'm stubborn; and too proud to quit without a hellacious fight.
I had primarily come to the store to get a new alarm clock. Very annoying ongoing issue finally snapped me this morning and cost me some sleep. If I hit the wrong button, an hour of music unless I unplug it. AGH. I ended up unplugging my lamp in addition to the alarm clock!
So, new alarm clock. As soon as I asked, the lady said "Behind you" like they always do (I am terrible at asking for directions). I found a nice one for about $6. I also have that photo shoot coming up, and I want to have a fresh complexion. So I wanted to look at the facial stuff. I love my Neutrogena bar but maybe an exfoliator or alpha-hydroxy product.
I wobbled over there, and found a product that combined both, but the AVOID THE SUN FOR A WEEK warning kind of killed that. I found a nice generic brand exfoliator and stuck that in the cart.
I got some Powerade, I didn't know what had me sick (as near as I can guess, a combination of heat, lithium, anti-psychotic messing with heat tolerance, and maybe some low blood sodium), but figured any medical person would tell me to drink it. I got the Zero flavor, no sugar. I wasn't THAT sick! [laugh]
I felt sick enough that I decided; go home. Sick enough that the bus was out; and I decided to call a cab. I am pretty cheap. If I'm willing to cough up between $10 and $20, and I only have $50 left in my budget, I'm sick.
I remembered a very friendly checker and headed straight for her line, but she was closed. I picked another cashier. She was very kind and absolutely delighted with the Bible.
I knew it. "I have a wierd favor to ask..." Sure, she replied, happy to hand out the large thank-you-sack of Bibles bagged with scripture booklets and candy to "other employees". Awesome. I am praying for God to protect her job. I am a little worried about that, but it was obvious that God wanted me to pass her the torch today. That God has her back.
I just thought that was so interesting, like a very intricate puzzle. I had handed out other stuff before I got to Walmart; one day I may meet a few people who give me a yell "Thanks for the candy with the scripture booklet!"
I collapsed on bench. I was too tired to get the address and called Ron. Ron was feeling pretty perky and was happy to dispatch a cab. It arrived in 5 minutes; striking. Well, let's just say my alarm clock cost about $20 instead of $6! I could swallow that, especially when I reminded myself how expensive it is to ride in an ambulance, the embarrassment of passing out in public (I did that once from heat exhaustion as a teen - they didn't know antidepressants messed with heat tolerance), and the quietude and peace I'd find in my own bed.
The driver got a Bible, too. You KNEW that was coming. He was delighted with the tip. Hey, worth it! The way I see it, a cab driver is a superhero who rides to your rescue when you need him. I laid down for a couple hours after finishing off my Powerade. I have a slight headache and feel a little warm, but I know I'll be fine.
Ron is feeling a LOT better. Good. I hate to see him suffer, that must have been how he felt "watching" me on Saturday with the migraine.
All in all, a very odd day. Obviously the BD bag needs a rework on my Days Out. Do I bring my rolling bag? I did that Sunday and it worked OK. Do I skip the multiple stops? Just ride the bus to the shopping center and only stay there until I go home? I have a feeling it will mean that. Aggravating, I'm one of those busy bees wanting to fly all over and do lots of things.
God's trying to slow me down; I need to get better at listening. All I need to do tonight; take out the trash and cook up a nice stir-fry. I had a great dream during my nap, I was cooking delicious pork ribs. Ron loved them.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Pops and Goldie
While we were at the dentist, I was teasing Ron, calling him "Pops" - reminding him of the old man who thought Ron was my Dad. Ron countered with "Goldie", short for "Gold-digger" - how he made me LOOK to the old man because his pride was offended. We kept bantering back and forth all afternoon and evening, in a loving way.
Dentist said Ron had an abcess and needed a root canal. Let's just say, that was well over a mortgage payment. Ouch. I hung out with him because he gets bored and lonely, and I actually like the dentist. Besides, I used to have a horrible dental phobia (I had some bad extractions to make room for braces when aged 12). I don't want to be a fearful person and hanging out in the office,w hen I'm not in the chair, is a good way to do it. That took a while, we had to put the ride on hold.
Afterward, Ron had his prescriptions. He was starting to hurt pretty bad so we went to Walmart to fill them. While waiting, I bought him some Oragel gel, and got him a bag of ice for his face. He said the ice distracted him from the pain. He was sure happy to get the pain pills.
We are taking tomorrow off; for many reasons. MY main reason, the guy who went off on me today will be there alone tomorrow. I would just as soon avoid him until he gets his head together. He goes off every now and then. Last year it was something Ron did (a very minor thing). It was so offensive to him he made a big production out of it for days, then generously (rolleyes) decided to "forgive" Ron, then spent a week apologizing. Oh boy. Another time a guy at work said "I can't give you a ride unless I get some gas money" and he fumed for weeks.
I don't want the guy to catch me alone and rant at me, then go off again and say I said and did stuff I didn't. Right now HE looks like an ass. No one cares except him. I want to keep it that way, and isn't it handy that Ron had this root canal? Ron absolutely needs to rest tomorrow anyway.
[shrug] We all have problems, but I try to keep my problems my own property, if that makes any sense. If you want to come here and read about them, great! But I'm not going to dump it on you. I'm certainly not going to sack up all my stresses, and then totally unload them on the first person who "offends" me. I won't break confidences, but life could be a lot easier for this guy if he made a few simple changes and he knows it.
But [shrug], if someone wants to walk around all angry and stressed out, wanting me to listen to the same old problem again and again, I'll do it. I have done it for several years now. Kind of like the guy who is always buying our coffee, and always complaining about it and demanding refunds and free cups of coffee. It's just part of the scenery.
It's not like I don't have ENOUGH problems, you know. [laugh] Nah, none at all. It's just completely wierd.
Oh, and my favorite scene of the day: We are at the Walmart deli, getting ready to buy some food. An older lady with a really sour face in an electric scooter, rolls up and literally THROWS food at a deli worker, shouting at her. Ron asked me what was going on. I looked at the woman. She looked back at me, still shouting. "Ron," I replied "She's having a tantrum."
"How old is she?" Ron asks.
"Old enough to know better."
I made sure to give a compliment to the manager; for the employee. She certainly deserved it.
Dentist said Ron had an abcess and needed a root canal. Let's just say, that was well over a mortgage payment. Ouch. I hung out with him because he gets bored and lonely, and I actually like the dentist. Besides, I used to have a horrible dental phobia (I had some bad extractions to make room for braces when aged 12). I don't want to be a fearful person and hanging out in the office,w hen I'm not in the chair, is a good way to do it. That took a while, we had to put the ride on hold.
Afterward, Ron had his prescriptions. He was starting to hurt pretty bad so we went to Walmart to fill them. While waiting, I bought him some Oragel gel, and got him a bag of ice for his face. He said the ice distracted him from the pain. He was sure happy to get the pain pills.
We are taking tomorrow off; for many reasons. MY main reason, the guy who went off on me today will be there alone tomorrow. I would just as soon avoid him until he gets his head together. He goes off every now and then. Last year it was something Ron did (a very minor thing). It was so offensive to him he made a big production out of it for days, then generously (rolleyes) decided to "forgive" Ron, then spent a week apologizing. Oh boy. Another time a guy at work said "I can't give you a ride unless I get some gas money" and he fumed for weeks.
I don't want the guy to catch me alone and rant at me, then go off again and say I said and did stuff I didn't. Right now HE looks like an ass. No one cares except him. I want to keep it that way, and isn't it handy that Ron had this root canal? Ron absolutely needs to rest tomorrow anyway.
[shrug] We all have problems, but I try to keep my problems my own property, if that makes any sense. If you want to come here and read about them, great! But I'm not going to dump it on you. I'm certainly not going to sack up all my stresses, and then totally unload them on the first person who "offends" me. I won't break confidences, but life could be a lot easier for this guy if he made a few simple changes and he knows it.
But [shrug], if someone wants to walk around all angry and stressed out, wanting me to listen to the same old problem again and again, I'll do it. I have done it for several years now. Kind of like the guy who is always buying our coffee, and always complaining about it and demanding refunds and free cups of coffee. It's just part of the scenery.
It's not like I don't have ENOUGH problems, you know. [laugh] Nah, none at all. It's just completely wierd.
Oh, and my favorite scene of the day: We are at the Walmart deli, getting ready to buy some food. An older lady with a really sour face in an electric scooter, rolls up and literally THROWS food at a deli worker, shouting at her. Ron asked me what was going on. I looked at the woman. She looked back at me, still shouting. "Ron," I replied "She's having a tantrum."
"How old is she?" Ron asks.
"Old enough to know better."
I made sure to give a compliment to the manager; for the employee. She certainly deserved it.
"You know this is an attack, don't you?"
I can only recount the last 24 hours by frying my brain with heavy metal. It has been WILD.
Last night, I left the cat door open. If I wanted my God Time I would have to get up at about 4:30 AM. Unfortunately, I forgot about the door hook. I had rearranged things and hung one on the main bathroom door. Ron bangs the bathroom door in such a way that the door hook makes a loud, resounding CLANG. I had noted it during the migraine but other things distracted me. One of the first things I did when I got up was move the hook! [laugh]
Every time he got up (at least several times, he had some kind of GI virus this weekend), CLANG woke me up. Then, just to add to the excitement, loud squealing and squeaking. Yup, another mouse. All night long I heard the poor thing.
[loud, prolonged groan] So I got basically NO sleep. First thing when I got up was disposing of the poor terrorized thing (still alive). I got an old box and a newspaper, another good squeal and then put it out in the yard. I doubt it will ever willingly come into my house again.
Bubba KNEW I was mad, I actually caught him with it and he ran off immediately. I still haven't seen him.
I fixed the door hook, while I was thinking about it. I took my shower. God Time. Ron had one of his long, "Why" sessions and I finally told him "Remember I am going through the day with very little sleep today. I don't have my usual tolerances."
Our first trip was fine, on time, got us to work early even. I told Ron we would probably need the time. I was right.
Debating here, as I chew on a nail, how much to reveal. Answer: not much.
I did a lot of running around as soon as I hit the ground, snacks were nearly empty and had to be stocked. I had to do some pallet unloading and all. I was glad I keep an extra microfiber shirt at work. I'm wearing it now, once I put it in it was constant running around! [laugh]
Anyway, on Mondays, as a favor to someone, I let them know when a delivery arrives. The guy calls me. For whatever reason this other person refuses to bring a cell phone to work.
This person was talking to Ron, and I told Ron (who heard me and went looking for a cold Coke for Delivery Guy) and the other person. I said it twice, and went off to get my delivery.
I came back and didn't see the other guy. I stocked the machine. The next thing I know this guy is yelling at Ron that I never told him about the delivery. I told Ron, "I said it TWICE, and if I didn't why did you go looking for a Coke?" He agreed, but the other guy was not rational at all.
He started screaming things like "THANKS A LOT HEATHER! A LITTLE HELP MAYBE?" stuff like that. I said "I told you twice, how many times..." and he interrupted me with more shouting and threats.
Oh. God. Good thought, I pray about it and find myself saying "Name, if you have a problem with me, bring it up with my supervisor." I then turned on my headphones full blast (more shouting on his end, but I didn't hear it) and locked myself in my stockroom. I had WORK. I did it.
Later on, he kept making "smart" comments like "Maybe Heather didn't take her pills today, did you take your pills, Heather?" in a very nasty sarcastic tone of voice. I just ignored him. Obviously, the boy ain't RIGHT. Had I been of a mind to repay evil for evil, I would have asked him if he'd taken HIS. [raised eyebrows]
It wasn't the other blind vendor, who witnessed the whole thing and gave me not one, but two hugs. He said I "did great" handling the guy.
Ron sarcastically remarked that he never "saw" the guy after I told him to take it to Ron. See, Ron DOES NOT LIKE people yelling at me. It infuriates him. This guy knows it and didn't yell at me in front of Ron, but Ron heard it.
He agreed with me, the guy came into work looking for a fight and was willing to use any excuse to "go off". I also think the Devil kind of pointed him my way. I am sure my evangelism pisses off the bad guys.
So, work is finally done. Only an HOUR AND A HALF WAIT out in the heat on our ride. Then the driver is so paranoid about Ron falling she keeps crowding him and almost MAKES him fall. [rolleyes] Then I said "left" instead of "right" when giving directions and she was very unkind laughing about it.
"Boy, you're sure stupid today!" I told her, it is my disability. She didn't care, she was having too much fun yukking it up. Unfortunately, we had her twice, she took us to Foodtown.
I was supposed to go to Foodtown on Saturday but the migraine laid me flat. I got a few little things yesterday but not real groceries. We did have a good ride home from Foodtown.
Oh, and Ron's tooth has been bothering him all weekend so I GET TO GO TO THE DENTIST with Ron! AGH. Hopefully that will be a timely trip.
Pray for me, I can use it today!
[When I knocked over something in the fridge putting away the groceries, Ron reminded me of what I'd said earlier "You know this is all an attack, don't you?" ] YOU BETCHA.
Stupid, though. That just makes me MORE determined to hand out my stuff. Well, God's stuff.
Last night, I left the cat door open. If I wanted my God Time I would have to get up at about 4:30 AM. Unfortunately, I forgot about the door hook. I had rearranged things and hung one on the main bathroom door. Ron bangs the bathroom door in such a way that the door hook makes a loud, resounding CLANG. I had noted it during the migraine but other things distracted me. One of the first things I did when I got up was move the hook! [laugh]
Every time he got up (at least several times, he had some kind of GI virus this weekend), CLANG woke me up. Then, just to add to the excitement, loud squealing and squeaking. Yup, another mouse. All night long I heard the poor thing.
[loud, prolonged groan] So I got basically NO sleep. First thing when I got up was disposing of the poor terrorized thing (still alive). I got an old box and a newspaper, another good squeal and then put it out in the yard. I doubt it will ever willingly come into my house again.
Bubba KNEW I was mad, I actually caught him with it and he ran off immediately. I still haven't seen him.
I fixed the door hook, while I was thinking about it. I took my shower. God Time. Ron had one of his long, "Why" sessions and I finally told him "Remember I am going through the day with very little sleep today. I don't have my usual tolerances."
Our first trip was fine, on time, got us to work early even. I told Ron we would probably need the time. I was right.
Debating here, as I chew on a nail, how much to reveal. Answer: not much.
I did a lot of running around as soon as I hit the ground, snacks were nearly empty and had to be stocked. I had to do some pallet unloading and all. I was glad I keep an extra microfiber shirt at work. I'm wearing it now, once I put it in it was constant running around! [laugh]
Anyway, on Mondays, as a favor to someone, I let them know when a delivery arrives. The guy calls me. For whatever reason this other person refuses to bring a cell phone to work.
This person was talking to Ron, and I told Ron (who heard me and went looking for a cold Coke for Delivery Guy) and the other person. I said it twice, and went off to get my delivery.
I came back and didn't see the other guy. I stocked the machine. The next thing I know this guy is yelling at Ron that I never told him about the delivery. I told Ron, "I said it TWICE, and if I didn't why did you go looking for a Coke?" He agreed, but the other guy was not rational at all.
He started screaming things like "THANKS A LOT HEATHER! A LITTLE HELP MAYBE?" stuff like that. I said "I told you twice, how many times..." and he interrupted me with more shouting and threats.
Oh. God. Good thought, I pray about it and find myself saying "Name, if you have a problem with me, bring it up with my supervisor." I then turned on my headphones full blast (more shouting on his end, but I didn't hear it) and locked myself in my stockroom. I had WORK. I did it.
Later on, he kept making "smart" comments like "Maybe Heather didn't take her pills today, did you take your pills, Heather?" in a very nasty sarcastic tone of voice. I just ignored him. Obviously, the boy ain't RIGHT. Had I been of a mind to repay evil for evil, I would have asked him if he'd taken HIS. [raised eyebrows]
It wasn't the other blind vendor, who witnessed the whole thing and gave me not one, but two hugs. He said I "did great" handling the guy.
Ron sarcastically remarked that he never "saw" the guy after I told him to take it to Ron. See, Ron DOES NOT LIKE people yelling at me. It infuriates him. This guy knows it and didn't yell at me in front of Ron, but Ron heard it.
He agreed with me, the guy came into work looking for a fight and was willing to use any excuse to "go off". I also think the Devil kind of pointed him my way. I am sure my evangelism pisses off the bad guys.
So, work is finally done. Only an HOUR AND A HALF WAIT out in the heat on our ride. Then the driver is so paranoid about Ron falling she keeps crowding him and almost MAKES him fall. [rolleyes] Then I said "left" instead of "right" when giving directions and she was very unkind laughing about it.
"Boy, you're sure stupid today!" I told her, it is my disability. She didn't care, she was having too much fun yukking it up. Unfortunately, we had her twice, she took us to Foodtown.
I was supposed to go to Foodtown on Saturday but the migraine laid me flat. I got a few little things yesterday but not real groceries. We did have a good ride home from Foodtown.
Oh, and Ron's tooth has been bothering him all weekend so I GET TO GO TO THE DENTIST with Ron! AGH. Hopefully that will be a timely trip.
Pray for me, I can use it today!
[When I knocked over something in the fridge putting away the groceries, Ron reminded me of what I'd said earlier "You know this is all an attack, don't you?" ] YOU BETCHA.
Stupid, though. That just makes me MORE determined to hand out my stuff. Well, God's stuff.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
BECAUSE, that's why!
I used to pester my Dad all the time, "Why, Daddy, why?" If he could give me the answer, he would. Otherwise he'd respond "BECAUSE, that's why!" Today is a good example of "because" in action.
I had a ghastly migraine yesterday, so we made no trips for today. I had no Diet Dr Pepper; a big crisis for me. This morning, BECAUSE I had no trips, I had to ride the bus if I wanted soda. I brought my candy, I always do.
I felt OK to take the 10:30 bus, BECAUSE I did, I handed out candy to 3 people on the bus. BECAUSE I finally got my appetite back during the ride, I handed out 4 more bags of candy to the people at the fast food place. BECAUSE one of the recipients was also hungry, I ended up giving him 3 more Bibles/candy for "his kids".
BECAUSE I still wanted my soda, I went to Foodtown. I handed out 2 more bags as I checked out, but BECAUSE I forgot to pay for the peanut butter I had to get BACK in line, a different line, and hand out another bag of candy to the cashier.
BECAUSE I got back in line, I missed my bus. BECAUSE of that, I handed out 3 more bags of candy and some cold pop to the homeless people at the bus stop. BECAUSE I missed the one bus, I caught another and handed out 2 more bags before I got off and went home.
Nineteen total. BECAUSE.
I normally never share these details but it's a telling image of God at work; I could have gotten very aggravated by my circumstances but God chose to use them for good.
I had a ghastly migraine yesterday, so we made no trips for today. I had no Diet Dr Pepper; a big crisis for me. This morning, BECAUSE I had no trips, I had to ride the bus if I wanted soda. I brought my candy, I always do.
I felt OK to take the 10:30 bus, BECAUSE I did, I handed out candy to 3 people on the bus. BECAUSE I finally got my appetite back during the ride, I handed out 4 more bags of candy to the people at the fast food place. BECAUSE one of the recipients was also hungry, I ended up giving him 3 more Bibles/candy for "his kids".
BECAUSE I still wanted my soda, I went to Foodtown. I handed out 2 more bags as I checked out, but BECAUSE I forgot to pay for the peanut butter I had to get BACK in line, a different line, and hand out another bag of candy to the cashier.
BECAUSE I got back in line, I missed my bus. BECAUSE of that, I handed out 3 more bags of candy and some cold pop to the homeless people at the bus stop. BECAUSE I missed the one bus, I caught another and handed out 2 more bags before I got off and went home.
Nineteen total. BECAUSE.
I normally never share these details but it's a telling image of God at work; I could have gotten very aggravated by my circumstances but God chose to use them for good.
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