Not letting it get me down

Bullies. 

I don't like them.  My work bully-harasser finally decided to "forgive" me.  I'm glad I don't have the hatred and name-calling, but I will be extraordinarily careful.  Just a litle light chat about Bubba's latest rodent, etc. 

He is very upset that we were given a bottled soda vending machine.  He sees it as "competition" and is feeling very threatened. 

Sales are lousy, bur Ron and I have a pretty low standard of living.  Our mortgage note is between $400 and $500 a month, and ALL our property taxes come to less than a thousand dollars.  Add property tax to "insurances" and we pay an extra $250 a month.  Internet, phone, etc.. I need to talk to Ron, see if we can cut back.  All told, probably total expenses of $1100 a month or so. 

That's a good thing.  We live below our means, so that means about now we are living AT our means. 

Sales at work are grim; people are cutting corners and pinching pennies.  They are maxed out, and don't have the cash to put into the vending machines. 

The other guy is feeling very threatened and he is reacting in typical capitalistic fashion.  Today he was interrogating me about our $1 bottled soda drinks, the food cost and all. 

His wife has a good brain.  She can DRIVE!  You couldn't ask HER to look around the wholesale warehouse?  She coul.dn't TELL you?  You had to bully it out of me?  Like I told Ron, I didn't want him on the warpath so I told him.  Ron agreed. 

However, he has a bad back.  His wife is not the kind of woman who willingly picks up a case of soda.  These bottled cases, are 30 pounds.  She has a hard time with a flat of CANS (24 pounds).   She gets very annoyed if she has to pick them up.   I really don't see either of them picking the drinks up, putting them on the cart, pushing the cart to the checkout, paying, and putting them into the truck.  Then, taking them home, taking them out, then putting them back in to go to work, taking them OUT at work, putting them on the handcart, bringing them into the building, putting them up in the fridge, and then putting them into the vending machines.  Not for long. 

His brother has a bad back, and his "helper" is threatening to go work as a "Casual" at the PO if he doesn't get more money.  I venture to say they will lose him soon. 

We have fewer steps in the process, but are limited due to PUBLIC transit.  We have a friend, but he has a life.  He did help us "load up" so we just bring them to work from the house, now.   We can take a few everytime we go to work.  I also know other good places to find soda! 

So, after all of that he is done interrogating me and says he'll "Let" us sell the 16.9 ounce sodas for $1.  [blinking]  However, he continues, he will not sell US any bottled drinks from the wholesale beverage guys. 

He says it is "competing with himself" and "Times are so hard, it's just business".  I didn't understand what he was saying so I sent Ron in to ask.  He didn't want to tell Ron, but he had to because I flatly said "I didn't understand" in a truly puzzled tone of voice. 

After 9.5 years they OUGHT to understand I have brain damage; and my meds play HELL with my audio processing.  So, that ugliness over, he generously added he will continue to sell us Cokes.  [shrug]  I don't even know if they will sell us Cokes this month; he is furious about the bottled vending machine.  {Does that mean they make a lot of money?]

We didn't ask for it; our consultant decided, since our sales were bad, that he would give us a "real money-maker" - the machine.  We have the room, so we took it.  We do need more money.  Ron's Neurontin costs $80 a month.  My pills USED to be $240, but thank God they are only $30 now.  More on that later. 

So, to summarize:
Bullied our "secrets" out. 

Refuses to sell us bottled drinks - that I can understand.  Ron is really hurt, and personally I think he is making a mistake.  He needs to order 4 pallets to get a delivery.  He has to pay for those 4 pallets himself if he's not selling anything to us. 

None of us have the revenue to tie up in "Santa Cokes" (self-explanatory).  [shrug]  We'll see.  I am not going to worry. 

Chuck is a very dear friend, and if we had to we could go to the warehouse nearly every day before work and buy the drinks for the day.  That's actually a wiser move than tying up the cash in a lot of inventory.  You can only sell so much per day. 

I'm not going to let it get me down. 

We had our repairman come out and he fixed the bottled soda vendor.  I know have a better understanding of the machine, although he flatly said they are troublesome.  The more parts, the more trouble, I think. 

So, our new machine is selling what we'd stocked.  We need to put more stock, of course. 

I got up at 2 and did my God Time, praying for everyone and everyone.  I really LIKE praying for all the "Haters" now.  [raised eyebrow]  I don't generally do it by name, unless someone in particular is bothering me.  [raised eyebrow, twitches]

We went to work.  There's the delivery!  Yay!  I checked it in (mostly bottled water and chips today), and brought it in on the pallet jack. 

I had a lot of trouble at first; I always lay it all on God and beg for His help.  God has let me know I have some pride issues that need work; and allows things to happen that send me hollering for assistance.  I don't always want to ask.  I want to be able to do it on my own! 

Well, I heard a horrible crunching noise, and the pallet wasn't raising, even though the tines on the pallet jack had elevated.  I went screaming to God (in my head). 

Put it in from the other side.  But I don't want to do it that way!  I just spent a lot of time... Do you want the merchandise in the stockroom?   Oh.  I did it, and of course it worked. 

Then all the excitement of navigating the loaded pallet jack about 1/4 mile through the building.  It is really annoying, and very common, for two people going different directions to stop and talk in the middle of the hall, leaving no room to pass even walking.  It's really bad when you have two "Towmotors" ( Image of Towmotor ), each headed a different direction, stopped and obviously chatting socially. 

Here I come with the pallet jack.  I'm here to WORK.  So I stand there and wait for them to notice me.  One waves "go around" abruptly.  I tell them, flatout "The pallet won't fit"  Then they get an attitude and one guy moves. 

Do you like your junkfood, or not?  That's about when I should (but I don't think I did) ask God to take my thoughts captive and pray for them; because it's rare to see happy people at work. 

Certainly not across the hall!  One reason I don't get very angry; even when he was so horrible to me in July.  He is a profoundly unhappy man.  He really thinks everyone is out to "get" him.  Does it become a self-fullfilling prophecy when you walk around thinking that way? 

I've got pills for that; and I take them.  I'm sharing this.. I was going to say "Not to gossip"; but I believe part of it IS gossip.  I believe in complete honesty. 

A portion is gossip; yes.  A portion of it is self-serving: Look at me, the RIGHTOUS MARTYR.  The rest is to show my struggles in a realistic manner.  I could say "Sales are really bad and the other vendor is giving us trouble" but that isn't very clear.  I believe in clarity, too.  Besides, I think it all says "Shame on THEM". 

AGH.  I hate drama.  Someone recently said it was a sin to ask God for an easy life; well I'm sinning right now!  I would like an EASIER life!  I don't want to be this strong!  [grin] 

Ron is handing everything with pretty good grace, and really working on letting me know I'm appreciated.  He understands it is bad to let his anger and frustration at God, to affect me.  [big sigh]  Thank you. 

So, finally done with work.  We went home; pretty tired. 

I had forgotten my driver candy this morning, I guess I was not meant to hand it out.  Sometimes, like today; it just feels like a whole lot of work.  That is probably when God is reaching the most people! 

I needed to get my pills.  We went to Walmart.  Bad news, said the pharmacist.  Some of them would not be ready.  She is always very concerned about me running out.  I assured her I had "plenty" - I did.  I certainly have enough to get me to Monday! 

I got my antipsychotic, which is $4 cheaper.  Yay!  I got some cottage cheese, and some soda.  That's it.  The antidepressant and lithium will be ready Monday. 

I told the pharmacist, because she KNOWS - off the pills = bad bad bad.  I told her "I have nightmares where I can't find my pills!"  She let out a big grin and laughed. 

She got it; I'm completely dedicated to my cocktail.  That's what they call it.  I would rather suffer physical harm than miss a dose.  She seemed a lot more relieved about not being "able" to give me my pills. 

Then we left, came home, and naptime.  We have decided to take tomorrow off Metrolift and stay home.  It'll be a lovely day, I'll work in the garden. 

I got mugged on a Saturday, about this time last year.  I plan to avoid the bus until Handout Day (Christmas morning) on the weekends.