I really needed to blog today

Oooh, what a VERY long day. 

I got up early, bagged up my candy, God Time, etc, you name it.  I managed to stuff all my candy and Diet Dr Peppers into a backpack.  I wore my new sweater (the one I did in the depressing video blog - cotton, turquoise, cobalt, and navy vertical stripes), black jeans, and navy fake "crocs" I bought at Giant $ for $1.09 last year.  They're pretty comfortable for the short-term. 

I knew I'd be doing a LOT of sitting and riding today.  I expected that; minimal walking and standing.  So the shoes were fine. 

Personally, I didn't find the horizontal stripes very slimming.  The black jeans did a good job of that. 

When Doc saw me, he immediately gave me a very sincere compliment on the weight loss and maintenance.  Did you lose MORE?  [grin]  Nice to hear.  My aunt loved the outfit, too. 

The first ride had a lot of drama.  2 more pickups.  The first pickup was in a horrible part of town; gang ridden and very dangerous.  If I had a dollar for every idle young man I saw this morning, I could have paid for my appointment. 

We parked in front of the house.  3 people out front drinking.  At 9 AM.  They start yelling at the driver.  The driver isn't a native English speaker and they are so impaired even I have a hard time understanding them. 

They keep saying they didn't call a cab.  One starts shouting at the other, shouting back.  There's an accident on the driver's channel, so everyone is sloughed off on other channels, with long wait times. 

Lots of shouting and the driver on the radio.  Dispatch doesn't believe the driver when he says "She doesn't know if she wants to ride, and we're 15 minutes past the pickup time".  She says she has to speak to the client.  She calls the driver back and tells him to cancel the trip, she understands now; the client is completely incoherent. 

"And drunk" I added to the driver.  "You don't need that in your cab."  The drivers are not allowed to transport any intoxicated clients. 

So, he decided to SIT IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE and fill out his paperwork.  I beg him to at least go down the block; it's acceptable to do that.  Most drivers drive off quickly after getting a cancellation; but this guy is very rigid.  He writes down his mileage.  The client number and name.  The time.  The name of the Dispatcher... and the client is walking towards the cab again. 

"We don't WANT YOU!  WHO YOU WITH?"  About this time, I turn on my headphones.  "Why you in FRONT MY HOUSE?"  Swaying with an invisible breeze only the intoxicated can feel. 

Ron utters an expression of disgust, because they are drunk "Before 12"! 

The driver finally gets ready to leave, and another car comes down the street and blocks him in; interrogating him as to "Why are you bothering my mother?"  Oh, PLEASE.  FINALLY out of there. 

We go to the next house.  A really scary guy comes out and bangs on the driver-side window.  He rolls it down.  A slightly better neighborhood.   "I'm taking Mom to the Doctor, you can go." 

Then we repeat the WHOLE process of the cancellation all over again.  Still dealing with the accident, go to another channel and beg for notice.  "What was your name again?"  AGH. 

As I sat there, listening to my headphones and drinking another Diet Dr Pepper; I was so glad I had taken my pills.  I was resigned, and quiet. 

Ron, in the meantime, is agitating.  We have an appointment, etc.  Why aren't we on a freeway?  I finally told him "Ron, the guy is a professional driver.  He is not playing games.  I know some drivers do; but he doesn't.  He's getting us there as fast as he can!" 

Ron is still upset until we pull up in front of the building, 15 minutes prior to my appointment time!  I went to the bathroom; I was about to rupture. 

Finally went in and saw Doc.  He had another resident doctor doing a psychiatric rotation.  I was happy to explain my illness, symptoms, and treatment.  We agreed to keep me on my current regimen; and he said he doesn't need to see me for 6 months. 

I hear a lot of bipolar people don't take their medication regularly; drink, and live the party lifestyle.  Doc knows I would rather DIE than go off my medication!  So, we don't see him 'till May. 

We left and met my aunt.  We went out to lunch, had a great time.  We went to Starbucks after and had to wait a bit on our ride.  She left, and our ride finally came. 

We rode about an hour or so in the morning.  On the way home, we got the scenic tour of half Houston.  One whole side, the whole service area, from one side to another.  Yike. 

When we got off, the driver said "Yup!  You rode 2 hours!"  Happily my bladder complied.  [big sigh]

Then I tried to remind Ron about some paperwork issues.  He saw it as "controlling him" and reacted badly. 

It really bugs me when he says "I wish I would just lose everything and hit bottom, so I didn't have to worry about it!"   Where does that leave me?  Right there at the bottom with him. 

I was annoyed, and I'm sure it showed, because I felt his attitude was irresponsible.  If someone is working with you, work with them.  Don't give them the finger.  But that was controlling him.  The shouting and name calling ensued. 

So, I took out the trash and did the dishes.  At one point he came in and insisted I tell him what I wanted to do tomorrow. 

I don't play games, and this was a game.  He has done this before,  where I have to placate him into arranging the transportation.  In particular, I had hoped to be paid tomorrow; as the bank is closed Thursday and he has a doctor's appointment Friday. 

I just said "Do whatever you want to do, Ron."  Tell me!  Do you want to get paid?  I guess this is where I plead or something.  "Do whatever you want to do, Ron." 

Then he yelled at me because I asked him to step to the side, so I could throw something away.  It wasn't my words, but the tone, he shouted. 

I just avoided him until he went into his room, beer can firmly in hand. 

Ay.  Yi.  Yi. 

I hope, for his sake, he remembered he wanted to go to work.  His talking book machine is broken and he needs to mail it back.