Aren't you going to help him?

I made a comment about rude and annoying people, and it reminded me of something that had happened at work today. 

I think it goes to WHY I had such a hard time, asserting myself, for so long. 

Ron uses the wheelchair at work.  He uses a "bungee rope" to connect a metal handcart to his wheelchair, then propels the whole works where he needs to go. 

Ron demands a lot at work; but he was always kind and considerate of his employees.  Unfortunately, in his eyes, I am far more "wife and lackey" than I am "employee".  The way he sees it, he drives HIMSELF every minute he's on the clock, so of course I should do the same. 

So, the natural tendendy, since I'm the "caregiver", is to run around and work myself as hard as he does.  But I'm not a workaholic.  I need a break now and then. 

One thing I've concluded is that I haven't been true to myself; and I need to be someone I can respect.  I asked myself a hard question a while back - if I worked for someone else, would I allow them to screw me out of a break, every single day? 

HELL, NO.  So, I started taking it. 

It wasn't really taken very well, but I made the point "You're not telling me you want to violate the LABOR LAWS?" and "If I were ONLY an employee, would you say that?"  Ron had to conclude I had a perfect right to a break. 

He doesn't like it, but that's just too bad. 

People look at Ron, and they see a very damaged man working.  Ron isn't an invalid.  He can certainly do his job.  I have to do the heavy lifting, get the orders, etc, but he can certainly, as he says "Put the can in the hole" (stock a soda machine). 

He has his job, I have mine.  I do my job well. 

So, today.  I had been at work for 5 hours straight.  I was starving.  I got my bag of peanuts and sat down. 

Ron decided he didn't need a break, and I think may have set this up to some extent; he came into the breakroom, in the wheelchair, dragging the cart behind him, then opened up the soda machine.  He really looked pitiful, filling the soda machine. 

I sat there, eating my peanuts.  The supervisor on break glared at me.  I kept eating my peanuts. 

He couldn't take it anymore: "AREN'T YOU GOING TO HELP HIM?" 

No, I said.  I'm on my break. 

He got a little purple around the edges and muttered something under his breath. 

"Are you on your break?"  I asked. 
Yes. 
"Do you get a break every day?" 
Yes. 
"Do you know how many breaks I have had all week?"
No. 
"This is my first break, all week." 

He shut up. 

I really think today's little incident perfectly illustrates my "problem" - there are idiots out there, who, for whatever reason, think I need to totally subjugate myself to Ron and his disabilities. 

I don't.  It's perfectly OK to say "I can't do that, and I'm going to take my break now".  The world is not going to end if I go to the grocery store and DON'T call him to see what he wants.  Gravity will not be revoked if I say "I don't have to accept your ugly talk, and I'm walking off." 

[scoff]  But try to tell THEM!