Better than that

You may read this and go "What?  Heather why are you doing this?"  I'll explain. 

Really pleased today.

We went into work today, we knew the other vendors would be there, but like I told Ron "We didn't do anything wrong, why should we hide?"

We went to the warehouse, got supplies, and then went to work. Paratransit dropped us off and I left Ron sitting outside with the stuff, then I went in and got our cart out of the shared stockroom.

The other vendor's employees were really happy to see me. It is nice to see some smiling faces. I asked about their loved ones, got my cart, and left. The other vendors pointedly ignored me.

Later on, (our machines were wiped out!) a hungry construction worker mentioned he really wanted some banana pudding cupcakes. I said we don't sell them, the other people do, but I'll ask them to stock more. He was very happy, and said he'd buy them all.

As we were leaving I saw one of the other vendor's employees. I told him about the cupcakes, and mentioned "This guy is looking all over the building!"

His jaw hit the floor as he gaped at me.  I was giving them business? 

"You can make a lot of money here!" I grinned.

I know that will get back to the other vendor, that I'm sending them business.

It's very liberating to live Biblically. I see why God tells us to pray for backstabbers, do good to those trying to screw you over, etc (paraphrased).

Besides, if nothing else I want that guy to get his cupcakes. Customer service above all else.

Why am I doing this?  Because God commands it. 

Here's, in my opinion, the most relevant passage on the subject: 

Romans 12:20

Therefore “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; If he is thirsty, give him a drink; For in so doing you will heap coals of fire on his head.”

 

That's pretty clear. 

 

You might think I'd be a little bitter about this?   Resentful?  I'm not. 

 

I think it's wonderful.  I have clean hands in all this.  I am serving God and the customers to the best of my ability.  I am maintaining good relations with the other vendor's employees, if not him (they made a big point of avoiding me so I reciprocated).  I'm not dragging a sack of ugly everywhere I go; and I'm not dumping my poison on others, either. 

Don't you hate people who do that?  I do. 

 

I've had so much crap in my life, this is nothing.  It's not worth it. 

 

Besides, I was talking to one of the other vendors at the warehouse.  He has a mobile vending operation.  I told him how the other guy is getting the offices. 

 

"Oh, you don't want them!" he said as he shuddered "A LOT of trouble, those office workers!  Very demanding and they don't spend any money!" 

Good Enough

Over 20 years ago, I tested well above average on verbal intelligence.  I've always been able to figure things out, whether it's a computer or a vending machine. 

Lately, though, not so much.  I feel very "limited" when I'm working with the Android Tablet I won at a water board meeting.  It's running Jellybean. 

We had to work today, so I brought my backpack (and tablet) along.  After we bought our vending supplies, paratransit left us at the warehouse for over an hour.  I took a bite out of the tablet. 

I opened it up (I've figured out the operating system to some extent) and loaded one of my apps.  They downloaded properly and installed correctly.  I opened the office program and pulled up a spreadsheet.  I felt very confused as I tried to make a basic spreadsheet.  I used to do this in my sleep, but not anymore.  I hacked away at it for a few minutes, realizing I'd need a book if I was going to make any progress. 

I thought, "The listmaker app can't be that hard".  I didn't do very well with that, either. 

Now, I'm OK with this, most of the time.  I accept I'm going to take a cognitive dive in order to have stable moods.  I'm good with that. 

I couldn't handle HALF of what I've got on my plate without the proper medication.  I just have to come to terms. 

It's like I told Ron "It's not the delays you're born with, it's the ones you get later in life."  I remember better times, times when I would have had that thing mastered in a day.  Now I look at me, seeking manuals and poking away in despondence.  It's galling to have fallen so far. 

Then I remember times with my lithium level wasn't ideal - how I couldn't let things go, I was always brooding.  I didn't own my thoughts; they belonged to my illness.  I was a hostage.  I was a slave.

Better, I think, to be dim.  I can still fill and service vending machines.  I can blog, facebook, and file the online report. 

It's good enough. 

New favorites

I've either had these songs running through my head; or just really like them.  Sometimes I listen to VH1 in the morning and I am surprised that I like so much of the "young stuff". 

Old but good:



This is one of the "new" ones.  Love it.  Probably downloading tomorrow before pill time.  I can blog, medicated, but that's about it. 


There's another one, "The Perfect Day" - it's a good one too but there are a million links on Youtube.

Edit: GOT IT!  I hunted up VH1 top 20's for the month. :D  




Forgot this one. I need to listen to the new stuff more. I think Ron might like it, too.

Glad I bought the flashlight

I remembered to bring my flashlight today (I have a few of the small $1 five-LED flashlights).  You'll see why that matters. 

We went to Walmart.  I got some snack foods, apple cider vinegar (in case I decide to do a henna treatment), and some air fresheners.  Ron got a can of the "cream style creole beans" he likes, and some drinks. 

After Walmart we went to the warehouse.  We got some drinks for work.  We got to work and realized we needed 7 more cases.  We'll get that tomorrow. 

I also worked on the bottled vendor.  Now, Ron and I have a tendency to bicker when we troubleshoot.  Me, because I want to just do things without reporting every step.  Ron, because he feels I've gone "cowboy" and pulling out wires left and right (so to speak). 

Today, much as it galled me, I got "permission" before each thing I did.  If I asked, he was fine with me doing it.  Thank God I had my flashlight, it's very dark in the corner.  The machine has LED's when it's on, but when we open the door it goes dark.  However, we figured it out - it ate a $1 bill.  We took it out and everything works fine now. 

It didn't kill me, either, and it was a hell of a lot easier than last time, which ended in a fight. 

We tested it to be sure; it's fine.  Ron thinks I am the best wife ever.  I'm just glad God gave us the answer.  Which brings me to something else - yesterday our heater was making very weird noises and not turning on.  We prayed over it and it is working fine now.  Thank God. 

The flashlight was so useful I put it in a vending machine for storage. 

The other vendor's machine's were about halfway moved; and right next to the administrative office.  That ought to be an interesting match.  One of their customers came to me asking which machines I "did", and I told them "Just the ones in here".  He had clearly had a bad experience. 

We stocked what we had, and did an inventory.  I need some inventory tomorrow.  Ron had me "rob" snacks and they made enough to pay for their inventory. 

I put up a few notes "Like us on Facebook!" with our company name.  I plan to post little updates and maybe a discount or two.  If I want, I can program one of my snacks to take a discount code.  If I have it configured, the customer can punch in the code and get a nickel off their item.  I can set that up for one-day-only specials.   I'd like to do that for Veteran's Day, stuff like that, because we have a lot of veterans.   I plan to keep it light and positive. 

I already have 8 likes in one day.  At least some of them are actual Postal Workers.  I think it's a great way to stay in touch with the customers. 

Ron and I are also figuring out a way they can file a refund on the FB page, and then we leave an envelope with the refund, with someone on that shift.  That way they don't have to go up front to the office. 

I finally got ahold of Mom and let her know what's happening.  She was outraged.  It really does make it better, when someone's furious on my behalf. 

I bought an 8 Gig chip for my tablet.  Now I can put all my cat photos and music on - when I'm up to figuring it out. 

I'm good with computers; but not really when I'm medicated.  I have to do the "heavy lifting" before I take my mood stabilizers and antipsychotic. 

I'm pretty useless, after. 

Game On

This came up on my playlist. 

I thought it was very appropriate for my situation.  Lyrics first, then if you like metal you can listen to the link:

When the lights go up and the game is on
Are you ready for me cause I'm ready for you
When the bell rings out and the fight is on
Are you ready for me cause I'm ready for you
It's time for us to start throwing down
Look and see who's standing now

Didn't even know that you and I were cross
Until a sneak attack from the weak side
Unaware that we were in a fight
I guess that's part of the problem but guess what

When the lights go up and the game is on
Are you ready for me cause I'm ready for you
When the bell rings out and the fight is on
Are you ready for me cause I'm ready for you
It's time for us to start throwing down
Look and see who's standing now

Say what you want to say about me
Throw up what you want to throw up at me
But when you mess with those that are around me
That's when you and I will have a problem

When the lights go up and the game is on
Are you ready for me cause I'm ready for you
When the bell rings out and the fight is on
Are you ready for me cause I'm ready for you
It's time for us to start throwing down
Look and see who's standing now

I'm not afraid of loving my enemies
Turning the other cheek
Blessing those that would curse me
I honestly want peace with you
But when you come against my country
When you come against my family
You try to destroy my people
I can't just stand by
There's no way that I can stand by
This time I will not stand by
I am coming, and if I come
then pain is coming with me
I'm coming and pain will be with me

When the bell rings out this fight is on
Are you ready for me cause I'm ready for you
It's time for us to start throwing down
Look and see who's standing now

Satisfied

So, today's been interesting. 

We had the day off of work.  We don't have a safe, dry, place to wait on a pickup.  Lots of cold rain and thunderstorms.  We need the rain, but it will make the grass grow. 

I slept very well.  I did wake up at 4 AM with a desperate craving for Orange soda.  I've been wanting that lately.  Happily, I have some.  It's diet of course.  I drank some and went back to bed, sleeping another 4 hours. 

When I woke up I did my God Time.  I also decided I am not going to cower on the floor "Please don't beat me!".  What did I do when I got mugged?  I fought. 

So, I'll fight.

What can I do to fight?  Well, I have a better product lineup.  I don't have deceptive practices like a candy bar labeled at 80 cents but really charging 90; a honeybun labeled at 90 cents and charging a dollar.  Yes, I told the supervisor about this, months ago.  They're still doing it. 

Now, you're a customer.  You buy something labeled at one price, but it's higher.  What are you going to do?  You're going to go to Ron and Heather.  You're going to have animosity toward the company that ripped you off.  You won't give the rip-off company any more money, that's for sure. 

I also stock the LSS bags of chips (the larger size) on the TOP row only - that's the only way the customer will get them.  If I stock them in the middle row or lower, they hang up and piss off the customer. 

I want my customers to walk away satisfied.   Nothing is more important to me. 

I hate cheese puffs, for instance.  However, when I go to Sam's Club all the big vendors come in at the same time.  I see what they're selling, and one thing they've been buying are these jalapeno cheese puffs.  I ask them, and they swear the customers love them.  Right now my customers are on a hot and spicy kick, so I got them. 

I realized they are as tall as the LSS bags, so I changed one coil on the top row in each of the machines and stocked them so they'd fall properly.  This doesn't take brain surgery.  I also made Ron eat a bag to ensure it's a quality product. 

I don't buy what I want (another flaw I see in the other vendor), I buy what they want.  About 40% of the population is black, another 30% latino, and the rest mixed, including white.  They don't want salt and vinegar! 

I've identified us.  The other vendors had a fit when I told them I had put a photo of Ron, in the wheelchair, in each of our snack machines.  Now the customers can literally see who they're "feeding".  Ron also looks pretty tragic, the kind of guy you want to help.  My favorite photo features Ron in the wheelchair, laden down with merchandise, right outside the front door of the building.   He's laughing at me as I take the photo. 

The other vendor went on about unfair competion.  [snort]  It's a good thing I taped the photos inside the machines or I think they'd have gone "walking". 

I can also fight via social media.  I'm not going to run down him or his business (rather, only here), but I can promote ours.  So, I made a Facebook page.  The customers can like it and get updates about new products, put in a prayer request, etc. 

I think it's a good start. 

About the rest of my day: I watched "The Lucky Ones" while I made Ron some rice dressing.  It involved cooking a pot of rice, then taking it out of my pot and bagging it.  Then I heated up the rice dressing mix (seasoned cooked meat).  Once it had thawed, I cooked it for 15 minutes.  The last couple minutes I added the rice to it so the rice would soak up the juices. 

I found the movie interesting.  I didn't feel like I'd wasted my time, but the poor thing got HORRIBLE reviews. 

I took a nap, and had a wierd dream about George Harrison.  I have never been a Beatles fan and couldn't pick him out of a lineup.  That's what I found the wierdest.  He was encouraging me to dance.  Oh-well.  Time to get up. 

Then I heard the heater - trying - to turn on.  [bad word]  It's working now but I wonder for how long? 

Now, I'm sure some of you might be thinking "Heather, you are always kissing God's butt, and this is how He rewards you?"  Well, I don't know what He's doing, but if it needs a repairman I pray it is cheap.   We at least know a reputable company: Action Air Conditioning and Heating. 

A good list of repair guys is worth it's weight in gold.   

Video Blog

Bad News

The supervisor called us back.

Basically, the break area was constructed in such a way to violate the contract without violating it - "Open to the workfloor but not the area past the wall". It took months to build this out, so this has all been going on behind our backs. That really feeds "bad thoughts" and paranoia with my illness.

He also talked a lot about how the other vendor is "suffering" with business down 20% (we have been down 50% for months and no one seems to care - I guess he is just screaming louder). Since he is the senior vendor, they "had" to give him the location.

My response to that is unprintable.

I'll need to repent on that.

Anyway, in addition to that he said we will also be forced to assume the maintenance of the microwaves. They cost hundreds of dollars a year in repairs and lots of very NASTY cleaning on my part.

That'll teach me.

It's a good thing I don't drink

Bad news today.

I wish I could be a lot holier in my response to this... anyway, when they moved our vending machines from a nice area in the front of the building, we were shoved in a corner. Now we are in a small dark room. I have to wait for people on lunch to go back to work before I can open the machines. It's crowded, dingy, dark, and loud with contruction noise. Not to mention the electrical issues.

The building is a large rectangle. Say 20 inches by 10. We have 1 inch by 20, on one side of a wall. That's our assigned/delegated area, the area the other vendor was so smirky about not coming into. We'd stay on our side of the wall, he told me, you stay on yours. The other vendor has the other 9 by 20 inches.

Imagine my horror today when I saw a brand new, freshly painted room - on our side of the wall. It has outlets and a water hookup (necessary for a coffee machine). To make things worse, I saw a note in her (the oother vendor's wife) handwriting directing the placement of THEIR vending machines. Into our area.

It is about 20 feet from our area. It is BETWEEN our area and all the new offices with hundreds of workers, just about to open up. I can't envision any of those office workers passing this bright, clean, area to come into our dark and cramped area, fighting their way in between tables, to put money into my machines.

I am pretty distraught and VERY angry. This is OUR area, delegated to us in the contract. The Post Office and the other vendor are violating our contract. No one seems to care. No one seems to want to defend us or do what's right.

We have vending machines that can go in this area. We have an unplugged food machine, and an unplugged soda machine we cannot use at present due to electical issues. We have an "extra" snack machine. We could put them in this new area. OUR area.

Ron is not interested in filing a protest. I am left without any recourse because he is the licensed vendor.

I am also worried because this looks to be a permanent set up - them in our area, taking our money (this area will probably net between $1.5 to 3K a month and we are only netting about $800 right now).

Oh, and one of our "good" machines is not taking $1 bills right now.

Like I said, angry. Bitter.

I want God to use me in this. I want to be used by Him. I want Him to use this for His glory but I don't see how. I am torn between desires to break down sobbing, or to break something.

They are hypocrites. The other vendors were all about "keeping the contract" until it benefited them to break it. This is only about 10-15% of their business. They are independently wealthy and made sure to tell me all the details years ago. Our consultant allowed this to happen. I don't expect work to understand the dynamics of 2 blind vendors and various assigned areas - I don't blame them.

About the only positive I can find - this new vending room is clearly on another electrical circuit.

It's a good thing I don't drink.

I know God will use this for good, somehow. I just get tired of all the trials when it seems like so many other people just don't have them. Not to this degree.

I feel like no one has my back. 

Edit: I talked to Ron, and he gave me permission to contact his supervisor.  This is what I wrote:
[name],

I hope things are going well.

Imagine how we felt when we came in today and found a note, in [the other vendor's wife]'s handwriting, directing the placement of vending machines into the new "satellite" on our side of the wall.

That is a clear violation of our contract, and very ironic, as [other vendor] told me "You stay on your side of the wall, and I'll stay on mine".

Until now.

Just thought you should know: we did not approve this.

At the very least, this had better be a TEMPORARY situation. We have unused vending machines (a snack, soda,the food you took) that could have gone there, had anyone asked what we wanted.

I'm going to end it here.

[signed, me] 

I think it's good.  It shows we are not happy, without being hysterical or ugly.  I am severely pissed, but if I show more than mild irritation, I have found, he and the other vendor will just talk it up to "Crazy Heather, there she goes again.  Har-har." 

A lot of rope

I had trouble sleeping last night, worried about work.  When I got up I took my shower.  Ron woke up and chatted with me. 

I've told you how I read a book, stating it's best to wait 5 minutes or so before bringing up negative topics.  I told Ron I had been having a hard time, and he was a good cheerleader.  It was nice to see him being a spiritual leader. 

Our pastor went on about that today for a bit during the sermon.  It's important for the husband to be a spiritual leader. 

In my case, I've been feeding myself with my God Time every day. 

So, we got dressed and went to church.  We had a straight trip and a really nice young driver.  He was a cat lover so I asked him all about his "baby". 

We got to Starbucks and waited on our ride.  I got out my tablet and connected to Wi-fi.  I have been trying, for a while now, to connect to the Google Play store and download a couple of apps.  I'm sure you had an easy time.  I did not. 

I figured out part of it today:  my tablet keyboard is apparently set for wierd characters I only remember from phonics.  Once I verified I was really entering the right characters I was able to get in.  Now to find, and download.  That took a while I master. 

At the end of it, though, I downloaded Kingsoft Office and a listmaking app.  I think both will be incredibly useful for work.  I can make spreadsheets, inventory lists, etc. 

I had hoped to download a blog app but I didn't have time.  I turned off the tablet and put it away.  I also have to say, if the logins are as exasperating as they were today, I probably won't be mobile blogging!

Now, that could just be me.  I will say, I'm medicated.  I have brain damage.  And while I can reprogram a point of sale message on a vending machine some of the new tech can be a challenge. 

We went to church. 

It was a good time, we had a BBQ after.  They had lovely chilis (I got the turkey black bean) and a couple types of cornbread.  I adore cornbread. 

Someone had made an interesting custard with pecans and pineapple in it.  It was a lot better than you'd think.  I gobbled mine up. 

We brought a variety pack of chips. If they didn't all get eaten they can save some for later. 

Then we went back.  Our ride arrived right after we did, and another straight trip. 

Since I slept badly, I decided to take a nap when we got home.  I did that.  When I woke up Ron was very angry.  Apparently he was upset the recycle bag was almost full. 

I don't appreciate verbal abuse.  I really don't appreciate it when I'm asking you to stop or "let" me leave the room, and you don't.  I need to talk to Ron at a future point, about standing in doorways.  He just kept going, like a train, rolling over all my objections. 

I know how it will go tomorrow.  He'll "forgive" me, and emphasize how his bad behavior stems directly from the almost-full recycle bag and my failure to empty it.  It's what he believes. 

It's not true.  There's no excuse to act like that. 

I have to say, I would give him a LOT of rope, if this stemmed just from the accident.  He has a frontal lobe injury, that's documented. I spoke to specialists and I saw his films.  Frontal lobe damage can cause abusive behavior. 

BUT

He was like this before the accident.  Let me tell you, I'd be a happy little martyr without that fact.  But, it's true. 

Ron can just be a butthead sometimes. 

So, now I'm left with trying to round up dinner.  When I get upset my digestion goes to hell and I made the bad choice to drink some lemonade.  My cottage cheese went out of code a week ago.  I'm not putting that in my body. 

So, I'm left with finding something that won't make me queasier, so I can eat and take my pills. 

If I weren't medicated I'd just skip dinner altogether. 

Unimportant Things

I battle fatigue every day.  I took a nap today after work, after getting 8 hour's sleep the night before, and I'm tired.  I'm always tired. 

I was thinking about that.  I know a great deal of it is related to medication.  I take a higher than average dose (I need it to get to the proper blood levels) of one medication, and two more cause fatigue. 

I have to think, if every bottle I take yells "Do not drive or operate heavy machinery!" - maybe it's the medication.  However, I thought, maybe I'm anemic. 

God knows my diet isn't the best.  Maybe I'm anemic, need to eat some liver or something.  Maybe I need an iron tablet.  Maybe I need to eat more salad. 

I plan to get a blood test at some point, I'm about due.  My lithium levels are fine, I don't need to worry about that for another 6 months or so. 

But, like I said, maybe I'm anemic.  I would love to "fix" some of the fatigue, if possible. 

I got the idea to check the web and see if they had any suggestions on dealing with fatigue due to medication.  I got a lot about chronic fatigue.  I'm sure it's awful but they have "reality", I don't.  I get so sick of wondering if something really exists, or not. 

I get so sick of being a slave to my moods - so exhausted - I'm actually willing to endure all this for the rest of my life.  What a statement. 

So.  The website had a little advice.  Rest more.  Eat better.  Get help doing your tasks.  "Avoid unimportant things". 

I thought about the things I've given up.  My Days Out.  My garden.  Most of my crafting.  Cooking.  Reading fiction.  Decorating.  Sometimes it feels like I've surrendered everything in my quest for mental health. 

At the end of the day I'm left with my faith, work, basic self-care, pets, Facebook, and blogging.  I've got more than I think. 

Blind people don't play jacks

Ron quotes from today:
Blind people don't play jacks. 

Just because you're in the toilet, don't act like a turd. 

Yeah, it was that kind of day. 

More music last night, but I did get to bed early.  I actually woke up before the alarm.  I'm always tired.  Always.  But I was a little less tired than usual. 

I got up, did my shower and God Time.  Then I "checked the mail".  I hadn't checked it in days and I had a theory about #19.  Sure enough, the party machine vehicle is in the driveway - he is affiliated, in some way, with the homeowners. 

Ron will call and have the HOA send the owners a letter.  If it gets bad he wants me to write one of my letters to the owners.  Since they are latina, and I have never met a latina who wasn't hugely into "family", I will remind them of the little disabled boy living next door, and his mother, imagine she has just gotten him to sleep and then... of course I will pray on it. 

It's not about control - it's about respect for children and people trying to sleep after a long day at work.  Anyway...

Our ride was late.  If that wasn't bad enough, he complained his tire was low.  I directed him to the nearest gas station, ran inside, and got a snack.  He got the tire filled but it took a while.  Then we had to go get someone at dialysis. 

I told him, I am never doing that.  "But you have to do all you can"  Why?  Ron died and he said it was great.  I could tell I got him thinking. 

I also didn't get into the "have to go off my meds" aspect of the whole thing.  That is unacceptable.  I'll die sane, thank you. 

So, we went.  They have 3 dialysis centers within one block.  "They have more of these than they do McDonald's!" I exclaimed.  The driver agreed. 

We got dropped at the warehouse, very late.  So late, Ron had to reschedule his pickup.  I went in and got my snack items, Ron's soda, and a folding chair for me.  It's a "Mity-lite Flex one folding chair".   Here's a link.  It's wonderful.  I'm sitting in mine now.  link

I plan to (and did) use it when we're waiting on paratransit.  I can have a very long wait just standing there, after I've been on my feet forever.  It's often the worst part of my day. 

Our ride came.  I had left Ron near the front door, and that's where the driver went.  I attempted to go out the front door (they have someone greeting who could have checked my reciept), but the exit door lady treated me like a criminal, yelled at me, and took a very long time checking the receipt when she realized I was in a hurry.  Then she made me go around the side, come back in the entrance, get Ron, and go back out to the vehicle. 

Ron was pretty irked.  He called in a complaint once we got loaded.  We are regular customers, in several times a week.  There's no call to treat us that way. 

I did all the loading, of course.  Ron held the chair. 

We had a bad address so we went out of the way and lost about 45 minutes.  Ron had to call, again, and suspend our pickup from work. 

We finally got to work.  I got everything on the hand cart.  We got to our area.  And everything's dead.  No power. 

Ron went outside and made some agitated phone calls.  I figured, well, I can stack a dead snack machine just as well as I'd stock a live one (I pull out the trays manually).  I got my label gun and got to work tagging pastry.  Ron sat down in a chair, dejected. 

I was about halfway through the first vending machine when things became brighter.  Then I realized the machine had power and the LED's had lit.  Yay!  I did a little happy dance, told Ron, and continued.  I got all of them stocked.  They look good, but #1 needs a snickers variety pack. 

It's funny, the linup.  Number 3, 1, 2.  Food machine.  Changer.  "Beast" (bottle vendor).  Then at the other end we have soda 1, 3, and 2.  Oh well, we know who we're talking about. 

I had to deal with Ron's toxic, negative, energy and a truly depressing Vietnam movie.  The guys were riveted.  I forget how many of them are veterans.  We finally left, locked everything up, and headed out to the street. 

When we got the ride back it took them a while to find a driver.  So, we waited.  I was really glad I had my nice comfy chair.  It gets 5 stars.  We'll see if it's durable but I love it so far. 

The guy went to the wrong place, then had some trouble with the "account trip" aspect.  I was a little annoyed until I heard his phone conversation.  It was apparent his live in girlfriend was leaving him that day.  "So that's it?" he said "You get your tax return and you're gone?'  Ouch. 

The neighbors (with all the kids) were gone.  I had just laid down for a nap when I heard them coming home.  However, they went in the house and stayed there.  I don't have a problem with playing kids.  I do have a problem with playing kids kicking a soccer ball into a fence just a couple feet from my head. when I'm trying to sleep. 

I took my pills before my nap and they sat well.  Good.  I don't like medication drama. 

Ron swears we are getting a couple days off, in a row. 

You know, that sounds pretty good.  I don't even want to go to Walmart. 

Glad I have my meds, today.

I should probably start with last night.  Some joker decided to play loud Mexican polka music around 9 PM, an hour after I went to bed. 

Ron and I were complaining, of all things, about the other neighbors.  "Can't they call the police?  Why does it always have to be us?"  After about 10 minutes (we were going to take a little walk to see who was the culprit), it stopped. 

Apparently someone did call.   

I tried to go back to bed, but I was pretty wound up.  I was a little anxious about the litterboxes, they looked a little full.  I decided to get up and clean the boxes; did that, all 4. 

Then I went to bed. 

I had planned to wake up at 4, but it was already about 10.  That would not happen, and, as Ron says "God's not going to get you if you do your God Time later".  I set my alarm so I could get my shower and watch the weather before leaving, but not much more. 

I did that, and off we went to the warehouse club.  We needed to get drinks.  We got them and I loaded them in the vehicle.  The drivers are always so delighted when I refuse assistance.  Some of them help anyway, but they know I wasn't going to make them. 

We got to work and I saw the other vendor's vehicle.  I told Ron.  He'd forgotten they are there on Friday mornings. 

Hm.  Awkward! 

I prayed about it a little.  We have an outer room.  The inner room contains the stockroom and my handcart.  I went into the outer room and saw "my" cart pulled out and near the door.  Good.  I grabbed it and left. 

I know they must have heard me. 

I went out and loaded the cart.  I pushed it in, Ron trailing me.  I encountered the other vendors leaving.  She kind of freaked out and yelled at her husband to go out the other door. 

What did she think would happen?  I don't know, but I smiled and said hello. 

They left, we went in.  I saw their employee, a very nice guy.  We talked a bit while Ron put the drinks in the fridge (our primary objective).  We took the canned drinks to our area, Ron riding on my cart. 

As I left, I encountered their repairman.  Let's just say when he didn't have a key to our machines, suddenly we had more money.  Then we were told an impossible story of how he had "fixed" the door problem that was the real cause of our money shortages.  The story was more insulting than the theft. 

Anyway, I smiled and was nice to him. When he saw me getting ready to push the cart, he told me to pull it, instead.  "I'd wreck my rotator cuff" I told him.  It's just simple body mechanics.  If I push it I am using butt and leg muscles.  If I pull I am using some very small shoulder muscles. 

I know that much from a safety poster at work, and my own anatomy experience weightlifting. 

I told the repairman, and the employee, that I was very happy they had fixed both the broken food machines, and I meant it.  That will get back to the other vendor.  We're not malicious or vindictive. 

Ron stocked sodas while I stocked the cookies (the mini chocolate chip are very popular, and the warehouse had been out for a while).  I also did an inventory and a "pull". 

Time to go. We left, put up the cart, and gone. 

We had a pretty short wait on our ride.  It was the same driver who brought us back from Doc yesterday.  He's one of my favorites. 

We went back to the warehouse and got more soda for the second location (3 cases).  We went there and stocked.  About that time the nice little manic turned into an evil depression. 

I did run by the dollar store and get a few items (mainly some degreaser oven cleaner).  We came home and I tried to take a nap. 

Apparently the next door neighbor (the one with the 5 kids) is also doing daycare.  Two boys I didn't recognize were kicking a ball around in the yard. 

We had a problem with these drop-off/carpool things.  They come and go in the morning.  I think the 5 kids go to 2 different schools. 

Anyway, our Metrolift was in the driveway.  Right as Ron got in one of their vehicles pulled behind us, at the bottom of OUR driveway, and stopped, blocking us in.  I said, OH NO and got out. 

I went down my driveway and waved them up, pointing at MY vehicle trying to get out of MY driveway.  They pulled forward. 

I think I told you about the middle boy next door.  I've caught him pulling boards off my fence and running wild in my backyard (it is fenced and gated).  I had to write his father a letter.  Anyway, that kid, of all of them, says "Where are they going?" 

I said "We have to go to work" and got back in the vehicle. 

Oh, well, at least he speaks English now. He didn't, a couple years ago. 

Ron wanted to know, so I told him.  It's a good thing he didn't get out.  His filter's broke and a lot of very bad language came out.  I had to remind him we were not alone. 

When we came home, a car came to pick up the two stranger boys.  I noticed it pulled into the neighbor's driveway, blocking their parked van, instead of impeding our vehicle.

I'm glad they at least know we are working.  We aren't just professionally disabled running little errands, we are working citizens.  That ought to get us a little more respect. 

Ron wanted to know what I'd like to do tomorrow. 

It's funny, because I'm a ultra rapid cycler.  If you ask me before noon, I'll want an exciting outing.  If you ask me after noon I just want to end the depression forever and don't care. 

Ron asked me after noon.  I said, work.  We can get the snacks I need, and stock them. 

I like to stay busy when I'm battling a depression. 

Chicken fried steak and I think I'm getting manic

We had a wonderful ride to Doc.  He's a ways off, but worth the trip. 

Metrolift hired a regular cab, and it was lovely.  The driver was great.  We got there an hour early. 

A few minutes later found me in the deli area of his building, trying to figure out my tablet.  I've had issues.  After about 20 minutes, I figured out that while the little meters said there was open wifi, there wasn't a connection.  Frustrating.  I don't plan to do a lot "online" once I download a couple programs, but I've had a hell of a time getting to the downloading programs. 

I finally put away the tablet and drank my Diet Dr Pepper.  Calmed down for a few minutes and Ron and I went in to see Doc. 

They saw us early, that's the nice thing about going early.  That means they can also bump up the other appointments, see them all sooner, and then go to lunch early. 

They liked the cookie "copay" in addition to my usual cash. 

Doc had yet another student who sat in on the session.  Ron was a little irked, after.  "He spent more time talking to the student than he did talking to you!" 

I assured Ron that Doc had a very good idea of my "status" the minute he looked at me.  And he did, told the student I was "hypomanic" - I was, thanks to the antidepressant, but I think I am actually cycling manic praise God. 

The trick of course is to be a little happy without getting too happy.  My mood stablizers, all 5 of them, should take care of that. 

So, Doc lectured the student, refilled my prescriptions, and out the door.  He's a good doc. 

I wish I could find a general practicioner like him. 

Afterwards, we went to the lobby and waited for my aunt.  I couldn't get her on the phone.  Uh-oh.  Last time we had a problem.  I hoped we wouldn't today. 

I'd gotten a Chili's gift card for Christmas, $25, and really wanted a chicken fried steak.  Happily she'd just forgotten the phone. 

We headed off to Chilis.  Ron and I had chicken fried steaks. 

Now I don't think I've discussed this: Ron has a problem with gorging.  He will just eat and eat until it's all gone (he did this before the accident).  Then he sits there groaning horribly like he's about to die. 

So, I took his plate away and took most of the food away, putting it in a takeout container.  I also gave him my mashed potatoes and corn. 

It would have been perfect with brown gravy, but it was pretty good anyway!  I ate the whole steak.  Yum.  I love a good chicken fried steak, but I haven't eaten one in ages. 

The last CF steak I had wasn't that impressive.  This was nearly perfect. 

My aunt brought us back to the building, and we waited on our ride.  A Metrolift pulled up.  L. got out. 

The man is nice enough, but he bathes in some kind of awful, cheap, aftershave.  I've talked to him about it, he just says "Yeah" and keeps doing it.  He doesn't realize how pervasive it is, and how it can give me a migraine.  I went 20 feet downwind and I could still smell it.  I thanked God he was dropping off, and not our return driver. 

Our driver came soon enough, and he was great.  He liked Ron's music and the ride went pretty fast.

By then, I was moderately depressed, so I took a nap for a while.  I had a horrible nightmare about my bed by the side of the road, and me rolled up in a blanket with my head beaten in.  Of course I got up after that. 

I think God "allows" horrible nightmares to keep me out of bed when I'm depressed.   

The Power Couple

Pretty depressed today. 

That said, I did sleep very well last night.  That's always a gift. 

I got up around 7 and we went to the bank.  They weren't wierd this time, about changing my $1 bills for $20's (I got paid, late but that's OK).  We sat down and waited. 

Our ride wouldn't come for almost an hour, so I decided to walk to the convenience store and buy a snack.  However, I had some severe anxiety crossing the busy street, and then again coming back. 

"It's pathetic" I told Ron "You're the one who got run over, but I'm the one with Post Traumatic Stress!"   I didn't have a full blown panic attack, but it wasn't pretty, either.  Ron commisserated.  He's pretty good about that. 

For a guy who got run over, dragged, and then screwed over in multiple ways, Ron has a really good attitude about the accident.  I could stand to emulate it. 

Anyway, I drank my soda.  I like the Sunkist Orange diet soda.   I could see it as a new favorite. 

After the bank, we went to the warehouse.  Ron needed soda.  I didn't get any snacks because they all looked good yesterday. 

Another long wait on a pickup, and then off to work.  We did pick up a guy at a mobile home park.  We had actually looked over there during our home search, 10 years ago.  They wanted us to pay $800 a month for way more home than we needed, on a tiny lot.  It does look pretty nice for a mobile home park but it wasn't my thing.  Not to mention, $800 was about twice what we wanted to pay. 

Before taxes and insurance, our mortgage on a 2 bedroom home, about 7 thousand square foot lot, is $450.  That's with a higher interest rate, too.  We made the right call.  It's a nice quiet neighborhood. 

If anything, a little too nice.  I think that tracked to the robbery at the bus stop, and the two burglaries.  It was "so" nice they figured we had a lot.  Ha! 

Anyway, we finally got to work.  She let us off, and I got the hand cart.  I loaded everything on the cart and then we put most of it in the fridge. 

We took 2 cases of canned sodas (if you haven't run out, you can stock room temperature canned soda - the machines have excellent compressors and chill the drinks quickly), and Ron hopped on the cart. 

One employee referred to us as "The Power Couple".  I found that endearing.  I'm glad we are visible.  One night, back in 2002, I asked a roomful of employees if any of them had even seen the other vendor.  Only one person raised a hand (out of 30). 

By the way, the other vendor did manage to fix one of the down food machines.  Good, I was praying for that.  God wants me to ask for His blessings on them, so I will. 

My snack machines could use a little work, so I rearranged some merchandise to make them look better.  Now they look great. 

Ron stocked his soda and we got the drinks out of the fridge.  Ron stocked that. 

However, we almost missed our ride.  Ron and I were sniping at each other and he wailed "Why do we always attack each other [under stress]?"  Good question.  We can work on that. 

We got out, and discovered our driver had not left us.  She was even waiting close to the "old" spot.

Depressed and miserable, I went straight to bed.  I took a nap for about an hour.  Ron did attempt to be quiet. 

No cat.  I missed her. 

However, the weather's already in the 70's so I guess I won't see her for a while.  She did hit Ron up for treats, so she's OK. 

I got up and fixed myself a chicken sandwich on whole wheat bread, with BBQ sauce and a slice of sharp cheddar.  I was pretty proud of myself - eating "real" food instead of cookies, for dinner. 

My pills agreed. 

Nothing worse than eating, and feeling nauseous for hours, because they didn't. 

Review

Today I had to squat down (drop it down to the floor) as one of my songs proclaims... repeatedly.  I had to wrestle a heavy vending machine, pull a hand cart loaded with sodas AND my husband, the ride-along...and I never once thought about my jeans. 

I got some Walmart "curvy fit' jeans, which are fairly baggy.  That's fine for a day off but it's not really professional for me to yank up my pants every 10 minutes. 

These were black.  I love black jeans.  They had a short inseam.  I also need that.  They had a little elastic and boy I needed that. 

They did the job and did it well today.  I'm impressed.  I'd buy another pair. 

I got the Just My Size Fit for You classic fit. 

If I drank, today would be the day.

I have to start by telling you: I hate bananas.  Hate them.  The texture, the flavor, makes me gag. 

That said, I had trouble falling asleep last night.  One of the married neighbors leaves for work around 6 AM every day.  So, why were they letting the kids run around outside after 9?  They have to get up and bathe in the morning, and eat, so they were depriving themselves, and me, of 8 hours' sleep.  I was a little gacked about that. 

I fell asleep around 9:45-10.  OK with that.  However, I had a very large, snoring Torbie in my bed.  She snored so loud, I woke up at one point thinking the neighbor was talking to someone outside my bedroom wall.  I was really pissed until I put my hand on the cat and realized it was her. 

SHE is about the only creature who can get away with waking me up.  I went back to sleep, but I didn't sleep very well. 

About 3 years ago, "they" began developing a corridor along the bayou.  One one side, you have our subdivision.  On the other, you'll find "light industrial and manufacuring".  It can make some noise, to me, at times, a lot of noise.  I can hear it sometimes at night, and in the early morning.  It's not as loud as a train, for instance, but definitely louder than the background traffic noise. 

I remind myself they are keeping my utility district taxes lower.  So I laid there in bed under my snoring cat, reminding myself: lower taxes. 

Overall I didn't sleep very well.  [laugh]   I asked God to give me a good quality of sleep if I couldn't get the duration, and He obliged. 

I dragged myself out of bed and took a shower, but saved my God Time for later.  I wasn't feeling very, ah, holy.  Especially when I heard the bang of a car door at 6 AM and the neighbor, looking very chipper, off to work. 

We went to the warehouse.  One of "my" greeters lost a cat and is pretty broken up about it. 

I got my inventory, not much, and waited for our ride.  It wasn't too bad.  The day was looking better. 

Then we got to work, and found our food machine down.  That's always scary because it's one of two things, "Health code" violation (power off for too long), or a broken door.  A broken door costs about $100.  I can "fix" a health code. 

Happily, it was a health code.  We're just having some ongoing power issues.  Considering the other vendor has two dead food machines, I'll take it.   I pity them; not only are they on the hook for hundreds in repairs, they are losing hundreds a week with the machines dead. 

We don't have anything perishable in the food machine, at all.  It doesn't matter if things "warm up" because they don't have to be cold. 

I got my candy bars stocked.  Everything else looked good. 

Until I got to the bottle vendor, and realized I had to fill the change bank.  It involves pulling the coin mech out on a slide.  The slide is very difficult, catching and jamming periodically.  It's easy to remove and fill the cartridge. 

But I put dimes in the nickel slot.  I fixed that, then remounted the cartridge.  I slid it back, and it jammed. 

Ron went into OMG you broke it mode.  "No I didn't".  "What did you do?"  A little faith would be nice!  I didn't do anything!  I told him that, but he wasn't receiving that.  Then he found the coin mech and inadvertendly pushed a button.  It started spewing coins and flashing an error message. 

[insert mutual finger pointing and raised voices] 

We couldn't get it to slide.  Then we did, and got it placed properly.  But we still had the error message. 

When they moved the machines, they pushed everything together very tightly.  Ron literally dragged out the bill changer and crawled back behind the machine to unplug it.  We left it down for about 10 minutes. 

When we got it running again, it was behaving.  "Maybe I should..." Ron began as he reached for the door. 

"NO!  It's working!" 

Now someone's heating up Chinese food and I realize I am starving.  I totally forgot I had some shelf stable beef stew hiding in the bottom of a snack machine.  I just knew I was hungry, and I wanted cupcakes. 

We sell chocolate cupcakes, but chocolate gives me a migraine.  I knew we'd be working tomorrow and I can't be sick, even if I were that desperate. 

The other vendor, I knew, sold a "vanilla" cupcake.  I went and found one, spending my last dollar to buy it. 

Imagine my horror as I read the package "Banana Pudding Cupcakes!" 

GACK.  I was so desperate I ate them anyway.  Ugh.  Nasty, fake, banana flavor. 

[shudder] 

We did have a good ride home with a driver I like.  It was a straight trip.  I went home and heated up some bbq chicken strips, eating it with some chips and a can of V8.  I try to do what I can to eat "better" and remain thrifty at the same time. 

Then I got a nap.  A nice long one, thank God. 

I didn't see Torbie, though.  She came and hung out with me later when I did my God Time (before I turned on the computer). 

An unexpected day off

Well, the party went on until 10 PM.  Not a big deal for your average person, but I had planned to get up (note verb tense) at 5).  It took me a while to wind down so it was more like 11 before I went to sleep. 

I remembered today was President's Day.  Ron had planned to run by the bank.  Can't do that.  So, he decided to give me today off instead. 

This morning found me getting up before dawn, going to Walmart (originally in our plans) and buying some quick foods.  I got some already cooked chicken type things I can just heat and eat.  I like the single servings, too. 

I also got some headbands.  When it gets windy in Houston (often) my hair flies around my face, and it's very annoying.   I'm trying one out today; so far I like it. 

When we got home I took a nap, about 4 hours.  The older kid next door woke me up kicking his ball around.  I got up (hard to do when I'm battling a moderate depression) and started to do my God Time.  Of course then they left for hours, and still haven't come back yet.  I was worried about messing up my sleep cycle for tonight so I just stayed up. 

I've been pretty quiet.  I trimmed Ron's beard, watched the Criminal Minds marathon, and had some quality time with the cats.  I did my God Time too. 

I'm a little queasy but I need to eat so I can take my medication. 

Not that into kids

When I was a kid, I always hoped I'd grow up, get married, and have kids.  I'd nurse the babies and be a stay at home Mom the way God intended. 

However, that wasn't God's plan. 

I admit I found babies "cute" when I was a child and preteen.  Then I was signed up to work in the church nursery with the toddlers. 

Let's take a moment to review that: brain damage, poor impulse control, insane, child care worker.  If you have kids, CHECK OUT anyone who comes in contact! 

However, the only problem I encountered was when I let some kids "shoot" me and pretended to die.  One of the senior (literally) care workers objected and felt I was "promoting violence".

It's odd to think those "children" probably have kids of their own now.  One little girl cried a lot and wanted to be held constantly.  I used to hold her, thinking how I'd never had that myself, and tried to pour some love into her while I had her in my care. 

The other kids were your usual bunch of rambunctious toddlers.  One little boy wanted to stay and play with me, even after his mother came to pick him up. 

She contacted my adoptive Mom about babysitting.  That was an awkward one for Mom "She's fine at the church, under supervision, but she's nuttier than a fruitcake!" 

Somehow, she conveyed it. 

Since people didn't really want to work with the kids, my schedule was accelerated to hours every week, during second service.  I don't think I really missed out, the teaching was pretty bland.  The kids seemed to like me. 

Then we left the church (church split) and joined a megachurch for a while.  They didn't need any child care so I found myself climbing to the loft and listening to more bland sermons. 

While working retail, after Ron and I got together, the "spanish" girls used to give me a hard time.  They each had at least one baby, or working on it.  I was in a stable relationship; didn't I want a baby?  

No, I concluded, I didn't.  I had Ron to love, he loved me.  We had a cat.  I felt complete. 

"And then I got pregnant".... KIDDING! 

I may have had a miscarriage or two - what I produced certainly wasn't timely, or typical.  By my last count I had 3 "possibles".  If so they're a lot better off in Heaven. 

God knows, literally, I would be a terrible mother.  I accept that.  I also know I have severe limitations.  Ron can't really help with the parenting. 

God never put the desire for kids into me.  My nursery experience taught me that, while cute, kids are a tremendous amount of work.  I've never wanted them. 

So, I hear the uproar next door, a birthday party I think - they do have 5 kids.  I'm sure someone's always having a birthday.  The kids are screaming but it's not malicious.  The cats are safe in the house, looking only mildly freaked. 

My biggest issue is a pissy litterbox.  I need to scoop. 

Sometimes, though, watching families, I feel like an alien.  I just don't get it.  Ron never wanted kids either. 

I have to figure God made us "special" taking out something others have - a desire for kids and all they entail.   I'm fine with that. 

Theology and a mature subject

I have a faith; I don't have a "theology".  I find most of the nitpicking very annoying. 

I hate labels, which is an odd thing for me to say.  I have so many!  LOL 

I just want to worship Jesus and talk to Him. I want to share my troubles, ask for His guidance, and go where I'm sent. 

Is this one of those "Why can't all religions just get along" posts?  NO.  Absolutely not. 

To my eyes, the Bible is very clear on certain things; they are not to be endorsed or tolerated.  An example of that.  The Bible condemns homosexuality. 

However, one day I had nothing to watch.  I pulled up a matchmaker show.  The show happened to feature a gay man, and a lesbian, looking for love.  I kept hoping they would hit it off!  [grin] 

Anyway, I was actually OK with the show for a while (doesn't say much about my spiritual walk - and I don't hate ANYONE) but the talk became progressively more profane.  The men were made to take their shirts off, comments were made about the women, and then it ended with women sitting around talking about what they like during intimacy.  In a group.  On camera. 

I won't be watching that, again. 

I can't think of a time when I've talked about what Ron and I do together.  Frankly, it's private.  I'm certainly not going to talk about what I do, or like to experience.  That's for Ron to know. 

Ron's made it clear he won't talk about any of that, and he never has, not even when he's drinking.  He respects that.  In return, I respect his preferences and keep them private. 

No, we're not into anything wierd. 

It's just ours. 

So (big sigh) I see my spiritual life a lot like I see my sex life.  Odd comparison, I know, but it's true.  What I do with God is private.  I'll share some details but not all of it. 

I get tired when I hear people talking about their "special dreams from God".  I usually just scroll past all that unless it's Ron.  He's had one or two, basically in the "Don't give up" category. 

So, some people want to take it all apart and dissect it, a lot like the women on the program.  "Well, I like this".  "I really like this". 

I just believe in Jesus and the Bible.  That's it. 

What triggered all this?  Well, someone sent me a friend request.  Turns out they are a Calvinist.  Here's my understanding: everything is predestined, including who gets saved.  If you are not predestined, you will go to hell even if you wanted to get saved. 

Horrible.  I am NOT onboard!  It's, to me, elitest.  I'm not going to accept a request from someone active in a group like that. 

I'd sooner let in the lady who made the vicious comments because she didn't like the carpet in one of my Bubba photos. 

Then you get into even more wierdness.  Progressive - popular morals outweigh the Bible.  OK, I'll call that "bad".  "Dispensationalist" - I have no idea. 

I know "Jesus". 
"Repent"
"Salvation"
 "Rapture"
I know Jesus wants me to share my faith; so I do, even when people laugh at us.  Especially then.

I don't care about your labels.  I have a good verbal intelligence, but my functional is crap.  Jesus said He valued a childlike faith; so I'm in. 

I've got that. 

A nasty prank

When I'm manic, I like to play the occasional prank on Ron. 

One of my favorites: Ron was always late coming out for our ride.  One day I had someone tell  Ron I had already left in the vehicle. 

Ron and I were talking about one prank I pulled after his accident.  It was a huge deal in the Houston blind community.  One of their own, a Houston native, run over.  All sorts of people came out of the woodwork. 

Some of them were very nice, like one of Ron's old girlfriends (about his age).  They had "a thing" back when I was in diapers.  She came to visit and Ron liked her, so we chatted a little on the phone. 

"Ron has huge gaps in his memory" I told her one day.  "It would be fun to pull a prank.  Let's tell him you had his kid after he moved to California!" 

She agreed, giggling.  She came in to visit and solemnly told Ron he had a son, a nice young man who really wanted to meet him. 

Ron got so agitated he almost fell out of bed.  He kept yelling "No!"

See, I had a problem keeping Ron engaged.  He would drift off very easily and it was hard to get him to focus on the present.  I was happy to see him emoting. 

The nurses, not so much.  They thought I was a cruel bitch and ran the poor lady off.  She called a few times, reminding Ron of his "son" but Ron caught on.  I think she started laughing. 

At any rate, I still think it's funny.  Even Ron laughs. 

Yay meds

As you know, the "spanish" kids next door like to kick the old soccer ball around in the yard.  I'll hear periodic thumps now and then when the weather's nice and dry (like today). 

Today, about half an hour ago, I also heard a very loud crash into my garage door (near the property line). I was very proud of my medication. 

I didn't freak out.
I didn't lose my temper and go out there screaming. 
I didn't even leave to inspect the damage. 
I'm not steaming. 

I'm just sitting in my folding chair, in front of my monitor, blogging. 

Yay, meds. 

If there's any damage, I'll let Ron go talk to the father about repairs.  I know the parents were aware of it, because the "game" stopped immediately. 

Alive at any price

I just read a story about a kidney transplant.  "Dying" is a little strong though. 

A kidney patient can walk around with zero functioning, for years, as long as they receive dialysis.  A heart patient, though, is a lot more limited (one of my FB friends has Ventricular Assist Device - an artificial pump to help his heart). 

Ron and I have ridden paratransit for many years.  I'd say a good 40% of the clients are dialysis patients, another 40% "slow" in a group home and "day program" (ferried to and from every weekday), and the other 20% are, well, other. 

I often wonder which group will suffer first when eugenics comes to town. Dialysis?  Uses up a lot of healthcare, and the ones I meet are not working.  The slow?  They will never work (the day programs are just daycare), and the group homes and other programs aren't cheap.  HIV?  Could be.  I know the meds are expensive. 

It doesn't really matter, because I believe it is coming. 

However, Ron and I have plenty of say in our own lives, at least for now.  In fact, our wishes will correspond pretty exactly with what "they" would want for us anyway. 

"No extreme measures!" 

I don't want dialysis.  If I have cancer, cut it out, but no radiation and most likely no chemo.  I'm not vain about my hair, but I've seen the effects.  That's not "living" to me. 

Ron agrees.  He's already died once, he can't wait to go back.  Neither of us is going to do anything to speed the process, but we won't fight it much, either.

I really don't get the "life at any price" thinking.  Maybe it's because I've had a difficult life.  Maybe it's because I have "faith" in something better, after. 

I certainly wouldn't want any transplants! 

It's ironic.  After Ron's accident, I didn't have any say in his medical care.  We weren't legally married and I didn't have a power of attorney.  Anything short of that and you, honey, are out of luck.  The "blood kin" gets to make the choices. 

In my case, "blood kin" (Ron's Dad) said "Do anything, alive at any price".  So we end up with 2 heart operations, a hole in his head, a clot filter, weeks in ICU, etc.  I'm glad they did (most of the time!), but if Ron had been talking I think he would have opted out. 

He's told me what he wants and I'll abide by his wishes.  If I'm in bad shape, I do wonder if he'll abide by my wishes.  I could see him, overcome by emotion, making choices I wouldn't want - but I'll leave that up to him, and God. 

If God wants me living, I'll live.  If it's my time, nothing will stop it. 

In Context

When I hear friends talk about their menopause experience, I always heard a lot about "being emotional".  I kind of scoffed at that. 

If I were "overly emotional" how could I tell?  I mean, really.  I'm crazy.  While Doc says I'm "very stable" I don't kid myself about my control - it's only attained through a battery of toxic drugs and a very "boring" lifestyle. 

Which brings up a side point.  Why do people get so upset at me when I refer to myself as "crazy"?  I am. 

Definition:  Crazy
/ˈkreɪziadjective, cra·zi·er, cra·zi·est. 

mentally deranged; demented; insane.

 

Let's look up "insane": 

adjective

adjective: insane: 

in a state of mind that prevents normal perception, behavior, or social interaction; seriously mentally ill.

 

How is that not me?  It completely describes my illness and how it affects my activities of "daily living". 

 

Anyway, some people get very outraged on my behalf, tell me I'm not crazy - HA!  If only they knew.  They think I am being "mean", and beating myself up.  I'm not, it's an adjective and I use it in context. 

 

So, anyway.  I know I'm in premenopause based on a few symptoms.  Has it really affected me?  No.  I have some hot flashes, etc.  Hormonal migraines, which, to be honest, I always disparaged "I'm on my per-i-od!  Time for a headache!"  Ha.  Joke's on me, now.  Those mothers are nasty.

 

I always worried about the "emotional" aspect; because the last thing I need is more emotion. I have enough emotion for several people. 

 

How would I know, anyway? 

 

Well, I cry a lot.  At the stupidest things.  Commercials.  Movies.  Out come the waterworks.  It's embarrassing.  I feel "fine" other than needing to cry so I have to figure it's a menopause thing.  It's unrelated to my cycle - I'm just a little weepy, all the time. 

 

My life is pretty good, God knows a lot better than it was years ago: good symptom control, Ron's good to me, I'm healthy, good spiritual life, cats are healthy, the house is in good shape, I could go on for a while.  It's not my life. 

 

Oh, yeah, and the money is OK.  Maybe it will get better.  We'll see.  No major dramas. 

 

I'm not crying over that. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A hell of a week!

Doc gave me discretion on my dosing; morning, or evening, just take it "about the same time every day".  I've found it works better to take my meds at night (the "hardcore" mood stabilizers and antipsychotic), because they tend to make me foggy. 

You can bet I took mine the minute I got home from work.  I ate a bowl of cereal, a large bowl, with soy milk.  I gulped everything down and nearly sobbed with relief when the dry mouth manifested.  Dry mouth means the meds are working!  I felt a lot better. 

Ron kept telling me I was fine, and I kept telling him, I'm not.  I just wasn't letting it out.  I was starting to get a little paranoid and all.  [blowing out a breath]  Only a couple doses from complete insanity.  Humbling, let me tell you. 

Everything looked good.  I went to bed early, as I planned to get up at 5, and I was awakened around midnight with horrible abdominal pain.  It seemed to be gas.  I vaguely remembered the cereal causing some gas issues the last time I ate. 

I have the chewable anti gas medication, one of the few medications that does not affect me.  I took one and went back to bed.  I was awakened later with some serious "urgency". 

After about 20 minutes of hell, and drinking a lot of water (I was losing it!), I decided to make a little party of it.  I got my book (I'm rereading this, again), camped out, and read, gurgled, and managed.  I don't know if the soy milk was bad, I ate a bad piece of pizza at lunch, or what, but boy I paid. 

I don't like to focus on the negative: so, I'll tell you about my awesome cat, torbie (the fat tortiseshell in the photos).  She sat in the bathroom doorway, sharing my sufferings.  When I finally finished and crawled back in bed, she got on top of me, purring for quite a while, resting comfortably on my abused abdomen, and demanding petting.  I was happy to oblige.  After about half an hour (I think), the pain and cramps finally abated, she went off to "her spot" at the left foot of my bed.  She's sitting behind me on the couch right now. 

Since I was up about an hour, sick, in the middle of the night, I ditched most of my God Time and slept in a little.  I figured He'd understand.  I did get my shower. 

We went to Walmart and I got a few things, including a new pair of jeans.  The "new" jeans look to be that awful dirtywash.  I'm sure I'll sound old, but why would I deliberately wear dirty-looking jeans?  That's not feasible for work.  I'm in foodservice; if they perceive me as "dirty" I'm out of work. 

So, I got a pair of black in my size.  I didn't try them on but they fit fine at home. 

I left Ron playing music on his talking book machine for a lady in one of the departments.  She was singing and dancing with the music, stocking away, having a great old time. 

I went in search of bras.  I found 2 on clearance.  One is my size.  I know it works.  It was $6.  That's a good deal.  I like to have a couple bras and now I do.  The other one was $2, in a band size smaller than my current one. 

I'd like to think I'll lose some weight.  I'd like to think I'll need that bra one day, and $2 was too good to pass up.  I put it in the cart and got Ron. 

In the Men's pocket t-shirt (I wear them at work) area, I found a nice wedgewood blue shirt.  Into the cart.  I should get one for Ron.  He likes pocket t-s. 

We decided we didn't need cat treats.  I got some soda for me, and some for work.  I hunted down chips. I was disappointed to see the Lays Stax took away "my" sour cream and onion, instead bringing in some jalapeno thing.  I am not a jalapeno lover.  I got a bag of "Queso" chips instead. 

I got some pudding, bland food that likes an upset digestive system.  Time to go. 

The $2 bra scanned at $6.  I told her to put it back but she made it $2 instead.   Nice.  I guess she was willing because I didn't have an attitude. 

We went home (eventually). 

I put everything away and got ready to leave again.  This time, we went to the wholesale warehouse.  We got some drinks for Ron, and snacks for me. 

For some odd reason, they didn't have any Famous Amos Chocolate Chip cookies.  They did have other things I needed, though.  I got them.  I was happy when I pulled out the trays (when I open the machine, I pull out the tray and then stock), because I only had 1-2 items left.  The customers are liking my selection.  I just need to stock. 

I did that.  I cleaned them up, took down the Valentine's decorations, and made sure Ron's stuff looked good too.  I don't know who moved our machines, but they did a good job. 

I don't want to know how they're routing our electrical, but everything is working great.  I have no complaints.  Yeah, it's dark and crowded, but the customers have access.  That's the most important. 

Then we came home. 

Thank God we get tomorrow off.  It's been a hell of a week! 

Highway to Hell

I had a lovely dream last night.  I was in a lovely place; it had a seashore, woods, mountains, running streams, and glorious activities. 

I've been afraid of horses since an incident back in my elementary days.  My horse got stuck in some mud and tried to buck, very hard.  I clung to the horse as my helmet flew off.  Since then, I was always afraid of them, especially after what happened to Mr. Reeve. 

In my dream, though, I was riding a lovely gray horse with a whitish mane.  I wasn't afraid.  It was peaceful.  I met people I knew in my youth group years, people who have no idea they literally saved my life with their kindness and acceptance.  I can hardly wait to see them again. 

"Sounds like Heaven" Ron told me. 

"I think it was a little hint" I told him.  Do I think I had a "message from God"?  I don't know.  I might have, I might have just had a good turn of brain for a change (I am prone to awful dreams and nightmares). 

I do find it a little tiresome when Ron relates a dream in excruciating detail, so I'll end it there.  That's about all I remember, anyway. 

Ron used to have nightmares before my diagnosis.  We'd be fleeing from a bad guy who wanted to kill us, but I would "screw up" somehow and lead him to us.  He had the same dream again and again.  He would always wake up *so angry*. 

I do know, thanks to the migraine, I haven't had any mood stabilizers in two days.  I managed to gag down the Haldol last night. 

I'm at a dangerous point.  On the one hand, I feel great, mildly energized, good dreams, a little more creativity, upbeat, not my usual depression. 

On the other hand I'm on the Highway to Hell if I don't get back on my medication.  My stomach is OK today so you can bet that will happen. 

I was actually toxic yesterday, my hands were shaking really bad, so I know my levels aren't too far gone.  It's going to kill me to do it, but I have to get back onboard the mood stabilizer train. 

Yup, I'll be groggy, queasy, foggy, and everything else I hate.  I'll probably have horrible dreams and stomach irritation.  Maybe a headache or two tomorrow. 

I cannot go off my medication; it's a highway to hell, and I'm not going back.  It would probably kill me. 

Whoever someone was

My head's still twingey and I have NO appetite. 

I have chosen not to eat.  Drinks are OK, and I've been drinking my usual decaf diet iced tea.  I was able to work a little. 

Enough to determine that our machines were moved a fair distance by ???  someone.  Whoever someone was, they didn't break anything.  All the machines are operational.  The food machine has an odd lean to the right, and the bottle vendor's sitting on a Postal Pallet.  I have my theories. 

They didn't "go through channels" but they didn't break them either.  They went to some effort to get the machines moved; move the electrical so the machines work, and while they may have left a lot of very dirty fingerprints all over the machines, at the end of the day they're working. 

I'll clean the machines tomorrow.  I couldn't stand the idea of using any cleanser today.  They took about 15 feet off the room and put up a temporary wall.  But, my machines are still there, and, more importantly, working. 

Mainly, I got some drinks at the warehouse and took them to work.  I put them on the cart and Ron stocked.  I had a look at the machines, put a case of water in our fridge (at the other end of the building).  I did a snack inventory. 

Then we left.  At first, we waited out front.  That wasn't feasible anymore due to construction and heavy equipment.  We moved somewhere else, but they are going to demolish that soon.  I'm not sure where we'll go from there but I need to look around. 

I had Ron call in a compliment on yesterdays' driver, the one who was so nice when I got sick in the bucket, in his cab.  A lot of drivers wouldn't have been so kind.  I hope he gets a bonus or something. 

We had a little wait to go home, but not too bad.  It got up in the 60's and sunny. 

Tomorrow, Valentine's day.  We plan to work. 

TMI for delicate stomachs

I've had some dental pain, or so I thought. 

Yesterday my back right molar was really killing me.  I took my meds and ate a modest meal.  I wasn't very hungry.  It all came back up in my bucket about 10 minutes later. 

Hm.  Some dental issue. 

We went to the warehouse, I got sick again, barely made it to the restroom.  The pain was beginning to radate into my right temple.  I realized I had a migraine. 

Since I still felt pretty pukey, I bought a styrofoam cup with a lid.  Normally I buy a soda but I didn't dare. 

Sure enough, got to work, threw up again in a loading dock trash can, in the middle of making change for a construction worker.  Ron's like "Where are you?", heard me retching "Oh!". 

Went in, stocked, inventory.  Not fun.  At least some of the lights were out (lights and strong smells aggravate).  Some guy was cooking eggs.  I couldn't get out of there fast enough. 

We finished up (it was a short day) and went outside to wait.  They were working with a scissor lift so I had to endure extremely loud beeping as they went up and down.   Loud noises hurt, too. 

Our ride came.  Sure enough, I got sick again (not much left) into my cup.  I was pretty wretched.  I put the lid on.  The driver was very kind. 

We had a couple days off, which is probably a good thing.  They moved our machines again.  We would have had hysterics if we'd "caught" them at it.  As it is, they seem to be in good shape. 

We had to work, had to stock, had to do our inventory. 

Self-employed = working with a migraine. 

I did "let slip" to a couple of gossips, I don't want the rumor mill having me pregnant. 

One of the worst days of my life.

Graphic descriptions, may be disturbing.

I had a pretty serious overbite as a child.  They knew it would have to be addressed.  I was taken to one dentist when I was about 6, and he suggested strategically pulling various teeth to "make room for the others to come in properly". Mom didn't like that and said no. 

When I was 12, they decided I needed braces.  Braces were not covered by the insurance, so Dad had to pay out of pocket. 

They took a lot of x-rays, did an exam, and gave me the bad news: I'd have to have 4 teeth pulled.  I had one permanent tooth.  The other 3 were baby teeth without a permanent behind them, an easier fix than pulling an adult tooth.  I "needed the room" I was told, for braces.  My mouth was pretty crowded. 

I was given a date and anxiously told all my teachers I would not be attending school that day.  I was in yet another "special program" at the time and only had 2 teachers.  They waited until after I'd attended my sister's wedding. 

Then, one day, Mom said "Let's to for a drive" after school, and I ended up at the dentist in a chair.  For whatever reason they just decided to pull everything under a local. 

Trapped in the chair, seeing this horrible wrench-thing, feeling the crunch-crunch in my head as he wrenched it back and forth, freeing the roots, it was hell.   I was actually OK with all of that. 

However, when they started taking bloody, sharp, tools out of my mouth and passing them in front of my eyes, I lost it.  I had a full blown panic attack and started screaming.   Mom said you could hear me in the lobby.  The other patients didn't like it much, apparently.  [snicker]

Well, they knew I was a psychiatric patient.  What did they think I would do?  Knit them an afghan? 

It remains a source of amazement that no one thought to knock me out. 

They kept injecting me with novocaine because I kept screaming I could feel it.  They had hurried consultations with another dentist and Mom - all agreed they would never get me back in that chair if they didn't finish... so they continued. 

I felt like I was being tortured.  Finally, done. 

I staggered out, my mouth full of cotton, glaring at them all.  Mom was given the post surgical instructions.  When we got home, she told Dad I "had a hard time" and sent Dad out to get me a milkshake (my love of sweets is legendary).  I was allowed to drink that, out of a cup, once the bleeding stopped and I spit out all the cotton (I'm not really a bleeder - according to the blood bank I have excellent platelets). 

After I had my shake, I curled up in bed and went to sleep, sobbing.  I don't think I mentioned I was already battling a horrific depression. 

That was one of the worst days of my life, right up there with accident day, and the day Ron told me (something bad). 

Punchline: the dentist left a bone fragment and I had to have incredibly painful cyst removal surgery while they got my wisdom teeth (7 years later).  It was worse than the wisdom teeth and it scarred up the inside of my mouth.