10/2

Today I'm featuring another episode of Heather's wierd, wierd, day. 

Monday, we had a very large driver, wearing smooth soled loafers, do a belly flop into my case of potato chips.  God protected the chips, and the driver. 

Today, the driver scolded me about "taking my blood pressure pills at the wrong time, which made (me?) fall onto my chips."  I didn't correct him.  I was rather alarmed.  He thought I took blood pressure medication, had taken it at the wrong time, and he couldn't remember he fell 48 hours ago? 

He got to talking about a client who died.  Now, when people discuss death I can generally tell the Christians from the non-Christians.  The non-Christian carries on about how terrible, what a tragedy, etc.  The woman who died was profoundly disabled.  The Christian would celebrate her life and say "She's in a better place, she isn't hurting anymore".  That's how Ron and I view it.  He carried on for a while about the tragedy and all and I was getting a little tired. 

I don't see death as a bad thing.  Not for a believer and she certainly claimed it. 

Then we got to talking about really large people.  I said, the really sad thing, when they get too big, they have trouble cleaning, so you get the odor. 

I forgot the driver is very large.  "No you don't" he replied.  "You just have to get in the bath with the epsom salts, lift up the folds, and clean them real good."  I had a horrid image in my head of this man doing that very thing. 

He almost ran over a pedestrian, walking on the verge, because he was fiddling with the climate control.  I had to alert him.  "You're going to hit him!  On the right!"  He started complaining about people "walking in the middle of the road".   The guy was as far off the road as he could get. 

I have seen the aftermath of 3 auto versus pedestrian accidents.  One, Ron on another road; two others, on that very road.  The last thing I want is the guy flying up on MY side of the windshield and now he's maimed for life.  Because the driver wanted to fiddle with the A/C. 

OK, wierd or what? 

Then it gets sad.  We went to work and the machines were stuffed.  I mean stuffed as if we had just stocked them.  I would be shocked if we made $10 between them all. 

Then the other vendor's employee came by "Oh, Heather, I'm hearing really bad things about your business.  What are you going to do?  Things are really bad.  Everyone says so."  Everyone being a bunch of low level, uninformed, gossips. 

I don't accept gossip as fact and I told him that.  [I did NOT tell him I didn't appreciate him gossiping about us.]  I am viewing this as a test of faith; and an opportuinity to be a silent witness.  Everyone knows Ron and I are on the chopping block.  Do we believe in God, or not?  If we believe, then He has our back. 

I told him Ron and I can live cheaply, and then he told me "Oh, yeah, my wife and I could live off our retirement checks." 

I don't know what it is with guys on the other side of the hall (the other business).  They feel compelled to tell me they are rolling in prosperity, and don't really need to work.  Maybe they think if they say it enough it will be.  Maybe it's the case. 

Either way, how is that going to make me feel better, when my vending machines only made $10 in a day?  Then he tells me their sales are up, they will be adding another workday for him, etc.  Like I said, how does that make me feel better?   Doesn't a friend do that?  Console you? 

I told him, well, your boss will be happy.  I know he was worried about losing sales, but instead he's gaining them.  That should make him happy. 

He said yeah, he supposed it would.  Then he tried to get me freaking out about healthcare.  I told him I wasn't worried. 

He went back to "What are you going to do?  It's all going to end!" and I told him only God knew what would happen.  I was putting my faith in God and not gossip.  He tried to start again and I told him "I have enough on my plate, I'm not accepting this" and I walked out.

Ron was irked when I told him about this.  "Why are they bothering you?"  I told him, maybe it's a pick on the weak thing.  They know I have a history of depression so they assume they can scare me. I don't see what purpose that would serve, though. 

Like I said, the machines looked great.  That's my job. 

Ron and I agree we will try to avoid them as much as possible.  I don't need this in my life. 

I know the devil wants to drag me down.  He uses different things to do it.  Depression.  Problems with Ron.  Money problems.  Health problems (my hands have been kind of shaky, not huge but annoying).   Cat problems, even.  Scaring me with fourth-hand, low-level gossip?  Right up his alley. 

The devil wants to drag me down and defeat me. 

I will not allow that to happen. 

I will carry on.