"Is there a problem?"

I had a bad night.  I went to bed early, I was so miserable.  I tossed and turned for a while and finally fell asleep. 

Whoever was playing that music, at night, has stopped.  Good.  I just get random cars driving by and blasting their tunes.  I am sure I would be guilty if I drove. 

I woke up early and sure enough, found my Bubba cat.  We had a good pet for a while, then when I stopped he got on his bed (actually a plastic storage box with a piece of cardboard on top).  I went back to sleep, happy he was nearby.  I love my Bubba. 

I did my God Time, a little whiny.  Why do I have to have brain damage?  Why do I have to be crazy - and not just "nuts" but psychotic? 

Have you ever watched Law & Order - any of them?  They always have the episide, every now and then, of the psychotic, off their meds.  I saw one of them today.  A guy was raving about secret prisons and tentacles. 

I found it ironic, because I was currently swallowing my mood stabilizer and antipsychotic.  I thought to myself "This is why I take it". 

So, I'm crazy.  I have brain damage.  My husband - lots of physical problems.  Head injury with impulse control issues.  Occasional verbal abuse.  Alcohol. 

Yike. Now, since I'm a Christian I can write it up to God's strength being made perfect in our weakeness (2 Corinthians 12:)  It's funny, I'm listening to "Crazy Train" as I type. 

Anyway, sometimes I get overwhelmed.  I can't handle this on my own - so I turn it over to God.  I can still "see" it, if that makes sense.

I had a good day. 

Ron and I went to the warehouse and got our supplies.  I am limited by space.  I needed about twice the stuff I got.  I stuck with chips and such.  We're going back tomorrow to get more (after church). 

More on that, later. 

We got to work.  I left Ron with the stuff and got the hand cart.  Then I put the stuff on the cart and we came in to stock. 

Ron needed me for various things, we got that done, and then I started stocking.  Unfortunately, I found my plain fritos have expired.  I had to take them out of the machine.  I put them in my tote bag - we can't sell them and customers get touchy when offered, free, expired, product. 

Their loss.  I think Ron is on his 5th bag. 

I got everything stocked.  As I serviced the last machine, carefully setting prices and getting everything right, a customer came up and asked for change.  I opened the validator. $2.  Take that, everyone who thinks I'm "rolling in it".  Not enough.  I had some singles in my pocket so I made the change with them. 

Then she started castigating me. My machine was "empty".  Now, I've found when someone says a machine is empty (it was about 80% stocked), they are seeking a particular item.  Sure enough, she started yelling about donuts. 

Ron heard the raised voice and came rolling over in his wheelchair, his face like thunder.  "Do you need help, Heather?"  He turned to face the woman  "Is there a problem?"   She ran off. 

I found it funny.  Ron may yell at me on occasion, but God help the other person who does!  He will devour them!  Go Ron! 

We finished up and came home.  Since it was the weekend, I pushed him out in the wheelchair, came back, locked up the wheelchair, and came out myself. 

Our ride came quickly and found us with no problem.  We were teasing the driver, the other client in the vehicle. 

"He's my husband"  said the other lady. 
"No, he's mine!" I cried. 
"Y'all got it wrong," Ron replied in a deep voice. "He's MINE" 

Oh, I almost wet the seat.  The driver was laughing so hard he had a hard time keeping in his lane.  "I don't want any of you" he replied.  I pretended to cry. 

We got home, I ate, and went to bed.  I was beat.  The neighbors made some noise, it's a nice day, the middle of the day - I totally get it.  I was tired.  So tired. 

I was so groggy, when I got up, Ron asked me if I was OK.  I replied "Did you take 4 lithium and a haldol?"  (probably a little bitter).  "Oh." 

"I always have lots of energy before I take it, but after I'm exhausted and I can barely get to the bathroom".  I whined. 

So, here I am, blogging.