Laying the Demons to Rest

I'm listening to my favorite song ever, Laying the Demons to Rest, by Theocracy.  Video with lyrics

You will probably be proud of me, today.  Got up, early, early, early.  2 AM God Time is always a little surreal, especially with a diet soda in hand. 

On the way to work, Ron played his talking book.  The "explicit descriptions of sex",part, of his talking book.  I was VERY unhappy. 

I said what I could, but when we got out Ron seemed to enjoy the whole "I'm outrageous, I'm unpredictable" part of his book.  I resolved, then, to NEVER ever, forget my MP3 player again.  If he chooses to do that, I can choose to listen to my music instead of being forced to listen to that. 

Don't get me wrong.  I enjoy sex... in the context of marriage, "Just you and I" enjoying each other kind of way.  I don't want, or need, anything else. 

Even though I was mad at Ron, I still brought him the wheelchair (really tempting to leave it in the stockroom and play dumb).  He asked me what was wrong, and I said I was upset he had played his book.  I told him I felt him reading pornographic descriptions of sex and listening to other women talking nasty, all rated as "Cheating" in my book.  Yes, I was upset, and wouldn't he be if he felt I was cheating on him EVERY DAY? 

He was pretty dismissive.  It really alarmed him when I looked at the bottled soda vendor and started laughing my head off. 

I kept snorting with laughter to the cries of "Did you take your pills today?" and "What is WRONG WITH YOU?"  "You're crazy!"  "Edited for content by Heather"

The machine is notoriously troublesome.  If I told you the details, you wouldn't believe this machine could ever sell a single bottle of soda.  It is NOTORIOUS. 

When filling the change bank today, the coin mechanism ATE an entire roll of dimes and stored them next to the circuit boad.  It's that whacko.  I had to turn it upside down and whack it to get them free, then partially disassemble it to put them in the dime row. 

The coin mech is posessed, I have a piece of paper taped over it to prevent people putting change into the slot.  If they do, it jams and they lose their money.  The price point is $1, and it does accept bills. 

Anyway, someone had drawn a little sketch. on my piece of paper.  It showed a very ill/drunk/goofy looking face.  If the machine had a face, that was it.  I laughed so hard I cried. 

I wish I could meet the artist, so I could give them a free soda.  I tried to explain to Ron, but I think he truly feared I was having some kind of meltdown, he rolled off quickly and locked himself in his stockroom. 

In the meantime, I got 3 deliveries, put them all away, stocked everything, and handed out some of my homemade jam. 

He listened to his book, on headphones, for the ride home.