Heartworm Monday

Still battling depression. 

Ron got stuck in the bathroom at work today, he couldn't open the exit door for a minute.  [sigh]  Then he got back in his wheelchair and I pushed him on our way. 

I overslept, I kept hitting the snooze button.  Torbie was absent but I found Baby Girl sleeping on my jeans.  She likes to do that. 

Ron and I tease each other, saying "She's a worm!  A heartworm!"  She is. 

We went to the warehouse, and bought some soda.   Since Ron occupies a wheelchair we can't really bring much inventory when we travel. 

We went to work.  We didn't have much time so we stocked the soda and left.  (We had a very long ride between the warehouse and work). 

After work we went to the bank.  We sold them some change.  Then we had over an hour to the pickup.  I felt awful, but I wanted some lunch. 

So, I walked to a Wendy's nearby.  I was a little creeped out, though.  As I traveled through the parking lot some guy in a du-rag kept yelling "Hey!  Hey!" at everyone.  I went over by a sturdy-looking fellow and walked alongside him.  No hassles. 

I also called Ron. 

I got over there and ordered our food, then I brought it back to the bank.  The fries screamed "Heat lamp", they were limp and soggy but they were still french fries.  The burger was a lot better. 

Our ride home arrived on time, and she's a nice driver.  When we arrived at home Baby Girl came running up to us.  I petted her and she flopped over on her back, showing her spotted tummy. 

I love to rub her tummy, and she likes it too.  She stretched and wiggled as I rubbed her tummy.  Don't try that at home, you're liable to lose a hand. 

Ron had to wait in the yard.  I was petting the baby.  After she finished (she pretends to bite) I got Ron in the house. 

If he's in the wheelchair for much longer I would need to get a wheelchair ramp for the door.  I have the strength to brute him into the house, but it isn't easy. 

I just pray I stay healthy. 

Ron and I took a nap.  I woke up around 3.  Construction noise.  Our subdivision runs parallel to a bayou.  The other side of the bayou was empty land.  Was.  Now it is home to various industries.  "Light industry" according to the water district.  Anyway, the plot nearest us is being built up - so I heard the bulldozers and all.  For a minute I thought I was at work (undergoing a massive remodel). 

I had a really hard time today.  At work, waiting on our ride, I begged God to send us a good ride, good rides, because I just didn't have "it" today. 

A few minutes later a driver pulled up.  Most of the time the driver has difficulty locating us; but not her. 

After she loaded Ron she got in the seat.  I love the front passenger seat, so I took it.  I felt like God wanted me to let her know - so I told her "I've had a horrible depression all month"  Why?  I'm bipolar.  Oooh!  "I really needed a break and begged God to send us a good driver who could find us easily.  There you were!  You just slid right in with no problem!  Thank you for being an answer to prayer!" 

She really liked that. 

Initiative

Ron and I got home from the taqueria around 10 AM.  "If I could" I told Ron "I'd just go to bed and wake up tomorrow before work". 

Not fatigue, necessarily, but the depression. 

Anyway, when I was NOT depressed a few days ago I had a thought: making myself depression care packages. 

Each box would have various treats, nicely scented soap, perhaps.  A candle or two.  A good book. 

I might make a box of index cards with assignments: foot rub. 20 minutes reading poetry. 

When I'm manic, I could write down encouraging Bible verses on index cards, and put them in a box.  Then read them whe I'm depressed. 

The question for me: will I really do it, though? 

What I mean: I can make preparations to do nice things for myself; but will I have the initiative to enjoy them? 

Onto happier thoughts

Medication on board and digesting, I'm turning to happier thoughts. 

I'm getting an eye exam this week.  Eye exam = glasses. 

So, I need to pick out glasses. 

What am I liking? 

This: 

They might be a little smaller than I like, but they're purple.  I love purple.  With my prescription (guesstimated) they would cost about $80.  I have $100 saved. 

The last pair of glasses I bought, at Walmart, cost $400 and broke within months. 

I should add here, it's been 11 years since my last prescription (excepting the broken ones that died within a few months, back in 2006, but the eye doctor told me my prescription hadn't changed much from my 2003 pair, which I wear). 

I'm overdue. 

I also like these:

Not super fancy, but a bigger lens area, and I like navy - I can wear it with anything.

These have excellent reviews.  I wouldn't wear them everyday but they would make a really cute prescription sunglass. 

I've always wanted prescription sunglasses.  Back in better times, I had transition lenses with are somewhat like a sunglass.  But at these prices I could. 


I would like a stainless steel pair.  The one's I've had have done very well for 11 years.  I wish I knew who made them so I could get some more. 

If I go that route, these look nice: 

You'll note a rather purple theme. 

So, which ones do you like the best? 

I'm looking at Zenni Optical because some friends have had very good results.

Video Blog

Not exactly cheerful

I got into 2 stupid discussions about birth control this week. 

The latest is upset because she felt I implied people with disabilities shouldn't have kids, if the parent has a congenital condition.  Well, she's right.  I think it is very selfish.  It is my right to say so. 

If you want a disabled child, adopt one.  There are plenty of disabled kids in the system.  Look at "The Little Couple".  They have dwarfism.  They chose to adopt 2 children with dwarfism.  The kids have a home, the parents have kids, everyone's happy. 

I know 4 people, born with disabilies to mothers who knew it was a possiblity.  All 4 wish their mothers had not had them.  All 4 find life difficult and get angry at their mothers/parents for choosing to have them "anyway". 

"But Heather" someone told me "Life is a gift and every life brings joy" (or some such).  I didn't agree.  I was pretty clear on the high price I pay with my problems, how I wish I hadn't been born, and how I won't fight (I won't) if I face something terminal. 

Maybe it is easier to be sunny when you don't have a mood disorder.  When you have one disability instead of two.  When you aren't even totally disabled from the disability. 

I don't know.  I just find it vexing when people tell me my life is full of joy and hope and I'm like "I didn't hurt myself or others.  I took a shower and went to work.  It's a good day."  Some days, kids, that is my day.  I have horrid impulses which I am ALWAYS fighting.  I battle tremendous anxiety, bad thoughts, dark depressions, and outright psychosis. 

My life is a burden.  I'm manic, and I'm saying that. 

I live because God wants me to live, my death would hurt people who love me, I do serve a purpose (more than one), and I have responsibilties (like a certain obese, elderly, rescue cat).  Do I love it?  Hell no. 

So, onto my horrible night.  Apparently I didn't drink enough.  My urethra kept burning horribly.  I got up and drank about 2 quarts of water, sat on the toilet, and read about 40 pages in a romance novel (inspirational).  When I was peeing OK I went to bed. 

I kept thinking I heard something, either industrial noises from the complex (about a quarter mile away), or music.  I did hear music around midnight when someone played 2 Mexican party favorites at full blast, then turned it off.  I imagine the other people in the house were pretty upset about that. 

Torbie wanted to sleep on my legs, so it was difficult to get comfortable.  Remove her?  Never. 

Every time I've lost a cat I lamented I hadn't gotten more cuddles.  I'm not going to throw those cuddles away. 

Not a good night's sleep.  I had taken a nap yesterday so I'm thinking that was a factor.  I'm thinking: no more naps for a while. 

I didn't get one today (more on that in a minute).  I got up around 5 AM, got my shower (not enough time for God, sorry, Lord).  We went to the warehouse and got snack supplies.  Then off to work.  I left Ron up front while I did snacks. 

I did get him so he could do his canned soda inventory.  Then we left and went to the warehouse (all this with Ron in the wheelchair).  We got the canned soda.  We went back to work.  Ron stocked. 

We went home, finally.  I was exhausted, but like I said, no nap.  I ate a couple of hot dogs and a leftover piece of flatbread.  I took my pills (always).  I did some laundry, the yard looks good, cleaned up the front room a bit, and called Mom and Dad. 

I've been coughing a lot with allergies, which precluded a video blog. 

Ron and I have something fun planned for tomorrow.  That will be nice. 

A long day.  But I get tomorrow off. 

Anyone can mow a yard

Wierd. 

Today was wierd. 

We got up very early (I didn't sleep well last night, I think some of the manufacturing noise in the industrial park combined with my innate "mental" and put me in a bad place).  I took a shower, though, and put in a few drops of argan oil I'd bought at the beauty supply store.  It seemed to help. 

"I think" I told Ron "People would say my hair is my best feature.  If you asked them to describe me, they'd talk about my glasses, then my hair.  When I get compliments they're nearly always about my hair (I get a few on my smile)."  So, I might as well pamper it. 

I'm not used to doing nice things for myself.  I'm still working on something between manic spending sprees, depressive funks, and honest self-care. 

We went to work.  The other vendor was there.  We "made nice" with him and chatted about random things. 

We went to check on the vending machines (I pushed Ron in the wheelchair, he can't get on the cart with his back acting up).  Sure enough, the bottled vendor demon was acting up again. 

I don't like to say I hate any machine; but I lean that way.  I am really inclined to send it back to Austin when they move us to our new area.  Yeah, it "looks cool" and it might make a little money, but it really doesn't make any more money than a regular canned soda machine. 

The soda machines, under contract with Dr Pepper, also come with free repairs.  Why would we want to pay out the nose for repairs on something that causes drama?

We hate drama.  Really.  It is so tempting to think, if we just got rid of that machine, our business would run so much smoother. 

Is it true?  Doubtful. 

They had a safety meeting in the room while Ron and I serviced the machine.  Apparently there's an issue with the finger guards.  Eek.  Maybe vending isn't so bad after all. 

The weatherman swore up and down it would rain, maybe even severe, so we went home after that and stayed there.  We need inventory, we could have bought it.  But we believed the forecast. 

I did get a pretty good nap.  When I got up I did my God time, then got on the computer for a bit. 

I decided to mow the yard.  It was bright and sunny.  I had a little trouble with the mower but we got it going (it's electic, with a cord).  Front and back yard mowed, still needs some weed whacking.  But 90% done.  The front looks great and that's the important thing.

The bug spray worked great, the mosquitoes were everywhere but no one bit me.  I also wore my old jeans (and bra), my work shirt, and old shoes.  Ron was my cheerleader. 

He feels bad he can't do yardwork

I don't know much about men.  But men hate to feel useless, Ron in particular.  So I make a point of appreciating the things he does - paying the bills, keeping the lights on.  That matters. 

Anyone can mow a yard. 

Snaggy

I love afghans. They make me feel happy and loved, but the only ones I own, I made myself. 

I have two primary afghans, both brightly hued.  One I crocheted between 1994-1997. The other one I knitted in 2009 after Frosty died (the white cat).  I consider them both friends; but they need to retire. 

Torbie (the fat brown tabby) is a sweet and loving girl.  She loves to climb on my chest while I'm in bed.  She does this with Ron, too.  It's very sweet and cute.

Until I realized her claws were snagging in my afghans and pulling out threads.  At first, I was a little upset at Torbie.  But then I realized she loves me.  This is just a tagalong of her loving me.

What's more important?  A piece of fabric, or loving?  Clearly the loving. 

However, I like to sleep under a lot of layers.  I've lost 2 layers now. 

Time to look for some linens (apparently my handwoven Ikea bedspreads are also "snaggy" and need protection).  A cheap quilted bedspread?  I'm leaning in that direction. 

Once I get the house and yard cleaned up (this mania), cook up plenty of food for Ron, I can look into some home decorating. 

Anything I say

Ron gave me the day off.  I slept in, until about 10:30.  I watched a little "Supernatural".  I ate a marshmallow pie and took my antidepressant.  I did my God Time. 

I also fixed Ron's rice dressing.  I cooked 3 cups rice, then I put it in a huge stainless bowl.  I cooked the rice dressing mix, and when it finished I combined it with the rice in the bowl.  I prepared a bowl for Ron. 

He left it sitting on the counter for a while (he couldn't have done that back in Bubba's day), but he did get around to eating it.  He said it was delicious and made yum yum noises as he ate it. 

He bagged up all the leftovers (about 6 bags), put one in the fridge, and froze the rest (I put them in the freezer, he still can't stand up).  He rolled around in the wheelchair taking care of things.  Then he did the dishes from his wheelchair. 

We remind each other he can use the bathroom unaided.  He can handle the personals.  He's taking a bath right now, by himself. 

It never did rain.  Not much, really.  It's kind of frustrating.  We plan our schedule around the weather forecast, we don't have any "cover" at work when we're waiting outside on paratransit.  We could have worked today. 

But I do like having a weekday off.  It's quiet.  I can sleep late.  If we needed a ride the trips are better.  If we went out to eat we'd get better service. 

But I did miss some Supernatural.  I like that show.  I'm not really "into" the male characters.  If anything, Bobby reminds me of Ron.  Especially in the wheelchair. 

I finally got online.  I had 2 messages.  One from the woman who, ah, backstabbed me last night.  She said "I'm sorry, I took the information down."  I just wish she'd done it sooner.  I'm sure everyone read all my business. 

I know I can't trust her now.  I left her group because she is a hypocrite, and I can't trust her.  Anything I say can and will be used against me.  Christians should hold themselves to a higher standard.  Yes, we'll fail, but we should repent quickly (not after repeated messages).  We should keep faith.   She didn't. 

But, I've learned.  She had been going on about PMS lately.  I guess she thinks that excuses it - that she was *just a ticking time bomb* and my comment "Ron would make an excellent father" flipped the trigger (she made some very ugly comments regarding Ron). 

You know, I might have even bought it.  But I'm crazy.  I have things driving me no civilian can understand.  I am responsible in managing my illness, so I don't crap all over my nearest and dearest.  I ask God for His help everyday. 

The "Overwhelmed by PMS" argument doesn't really fly with me.  In fact, I find it insulting. 

I think that's why she didn't even try it on me. 

Other than that, things have been quiet.  About the only thing of note, when #6 is loading or unloading the 5 kids to/from school, they block my driveway.  Generally a friend's car picks up the older kids.  Then she drives the little kids to the pre-K program later.  When the friend picks up or drops off, they block the driveway. 

I remember an episode of Criminal Minds I saw, with a psychopath teenager.  I'm just glad I don't have that next door.  I remind myself the cats go in their yard all the time.  So I try to be mellow. 

I so crave a life of boredom. 

Sleeping with Torbie

I'll start on the positive notes:

I have tomorrow off. 

Ron's going to help pay for the eye exam and glasses.  I didn't expect that because he literally pays every bill, and I'd planned to cover it myself.

I slept great last night, not long enough but a good deep quality. 

I had a great nap today with Torbie.  She likes to get on my chest as I lie in bed.  I pet her, she purrs and massages for 10 minutes or so.  When she's had enough, she goes off to her spot at the foot of the bed.  I sure like sleeping with Torbie. 

That's really the big thing I want from "my" cat.  Someone to cuddle and sleep with me.  I get that in abundance, and she's lovey with Ron too.  I often find her sleeping next to Ron's pillow as he snores. 

Not so good: bad trips today.  All of them except the last.  Lots of waiting, lots of riding around.  Ron getting seasick from all the bouncing. 

The bottle vendor was acting up again.  I had problems with it.  I had to get Ron to address it. 

We need a repairman, as well. Oh, well, he's a nice guy and he can use the money. 

Sam's club didn't have the variety pack cookies I stock.  I had to settle for other brands.  I got some Belvita breakfast biscuits too for the "healthy eating" crowd.  Your average postal processor is a middle aged guy, and he eats surprisingly healthy.  Hopefully they'll be popular. 

I need to figure out a way to get fruit into the cold food vendor.  I think it would do quite well. 

Snacks will need a restock pretty soon, but are fine for now.  I was glad I'd also picked up a flat of pastry, I needed them. 

After a very long ride from work to Walmart, the eye place was booked.  The receptionist was really rude to me and didn't even acknowledge me for over 5 minutes (busy jabbering at someone else, then ignoring me when I stopped waiting for her attention).  Anyway, so rude I'm not going back. 

My eyes are precious.  Why would I take them somewhere that hired a rude and offensive person?  I think I'll get them done at Sam's.  I'm there enough, anywhere. 

So, what a waste of time.  I did do some shopping for Ron.  Ron was in the wheelchair all day, again.  I don't mind.  I just hate that he's hurting. 

I couldn't take him with me so I parked him and did the shopping.  He wanted some snacks, grape tomatoes (he is utterly addicted), cat treats, etc.  I called him when I found the rice dressing.  I know he loves it. 

I figured he could use a treat.  I hadn't been able to find it for a while so I worried it was gone: it's not.  They moved it to a more prominent spot, which bodes well. I bought it. 

Rice dressing is basically chopped giblets, chicken livers, bell pepper, onion, and seasonings; mixed with cooked white rice.  The dressing mix I bought has the meat and seasonings.  I cook some rice, set it aside, and then heat up the dressing mix.  When I'm done with that I mix it.  Ron likes a 1-2 ratio, one scoop dressing mix to 2 scoops rice.  It's easy enough and it makes him so happy. 

It's also a good way to get some nutrition - organ meats, into his diet.  Ron knows what it contains but chooses not to focus.  Kind of like me and sausage.  I don't kid myself about the contents of sausage.

It makes him happy.  It's something I *can* do.  Ron even does the dishes, bags and freezes the leftovers. 

I'm glad I got that.  I'm glad I can make Ron something delicious tomorrow. I try to focus on happy things. 

I have a huge tendency, especially when depressed, to run down all the bad things again and again. 

Here's an example: I am a member of a secret group.  "Nothing leaves the group" kind of thing.  Until someone objected to me stating Ron would have made an excellent father and started ranting about him being abusive.  I only conveyed that in the private "nothing leaves the group", group, which this woman STARTED. 

I was pretty pleased with my response.  I sent her a private message "I thought what was said in the group is private.  Yet here you are putting my very private business all over your wall."  In the meantime, all that is up for everyone to read, which pisses me off.  I don't like having my confidence violated. 

If I put something here and someone writes about it in their own space, that's one thing.  But starting a FB war using private information is untenable.  I will probably leave the group: I know exactly what to expect. If she gets upset she will stab me in the back with private information. 

This is why I keep my (few) secrets tightly held.  People tend to use them against you. 

Anyway, I could let this ruin my whole night off, my whole day off, walk around ruminating and toxic.  Nope.  I'm going to shake her off like a burr and get on with being happy. 

In fact, I'm playing "Happy" by Pharrel Williams. 

Bouncing Chicken Grease

Today was wild even by my standards. 

I could not fall asleep last night.  It must have been after 11.  I had to get up at 4-5 AM. 

As it is, I hit the snooze button so often I barely had time for a shower.  I'm really liking the Suave Moroccan Infusions hair care line. 

We went to the warehouse.  I needed one thing: cookies, which they did not have.  I got some granola bars because I need a coil-filler anyway.  I don't expect them to have great sales but it's a full coil.  I got Ron some soda. 

Our primary objective: fixing the Beast, the recalictrant bottle vendor.  The repairman was right on time. 

This may sound awful but I was rather pleased HE had a difficult time with it, too.  Good.  It's not just me.  We had to go in and out a few times to get tools. 

They've rerouted the entrance by our stockroom.  The other vendor is going to have to move A LOT of stuff.  When I left, they were getting ready to bolt barricades to the floor - no more big flatbed handcarts for them.  I was able to get my 3 shelf cart (I've taken to calling it "my buggy" because every Texan refers to a cart as a "buggy").  I wondered what it would take to get them to purge a bit.  Now I know.  And it's not coming from us in any way. 

So, while we walked past our fridge I asked the repairman if he could have a look at the thermostat.  It's too warm.  A commercial fridge cannot have an average temperature of 48 degrees.  Not if you want to put a perishable food product in it! 

So, he fixed it.  I made sure to accolade when we saw it was working. 

We finally got the Beast working again (for now), and I loaded my granola bars.  Oh, and my vending machines are now directly next to the back exit.  That's going to be great.  The last thing they see after a stressful, hungry, day... yee-haw. 

After all that we went home and had a little layover for an hour or so.  I should have done my God Time in there but I didn't think of it. 

Next trip: the fried chicken special.  2 piece dark for a dollar.  Spicy or mild.  We all know Ron's a spicy fellow. 

Ron got 4 specials and ate most of them.  I think he had 2 and a half pieces left out of 8, total.  I don't know where he puts it.  I went to McD's and got a fried chicken sandwich. 

We were going to wait a while, so Ron, against my advice, called and arranged an earlier pickup.  They came alright, a very nice guy who loaded Ron's wheelchair. 

Ron was in the chair all day, he can't really stand up straight due to the back issue.  He's doing the hunchback. 

We rode around for quite a while, Ron bouncing in the back of the vehicle in his wheelchair.  At one point he moaned "OH, bouncing chicken grease!" 

Of course I lovingly reminded him I TOLD him not to fix the pickup. 

I started chatting with the driver.  "What's the strangest trip you ever had?" 

"Well"  he told me.  "I had to get a client at a gay bar.  I walked in, wearing my uniform, and they thought I was the stripper!" 

I hate drama

Work went pretty well today. 

We got up and went to the warehouse.  Ron had his own comfortable wheelchair.  I'd brought a folding chair of my own.  I was glad I had it. 

We got soda, and I got some pastry.  I knew I needed pastry. 

I have Moon Pies, 3 kinds of honey bun (huge in Texas - I never really encountered them elsewhere), cinnamon rolls, and cheese danish.  I also have chocolate cupcakes and chocolate donuts. 

You know the real question isn't why I'm fat - it's why I'm not fatter! 

Tomorrow, amusingly enough, I need to get cookies.  At least they like what I'm selling.  I hate to offer a product and see it sit there, unsold.  Then I have to literally eat it or throw it out when it expires. 

We got our stuff and off to work.  The driver was kind of difficult.  I gave very clear directions.  He just went his own route.  He kept saying "Is it near ____" and saying the names of things I never understood.  Like "SSI"  - that's a metal fabricator. 

No, his "SSI" was the Social Security office of Adjucation and Review.  A big difference. 

"Is it near the chicken place?" 

NO! 

I don't even know what chicken place he was talking about.  He kept acting like it was on Aldine Mail Route, too, miles away. 

It's hard to convey the feeling of distate and utter horror as I realize I have an incompotent driver.  I mean, I'm OK with him killing us.  I get sick of being crazy, and I'm saved - as long as he finishes us off. 

But when the guy can't even follow a direction like "Take the JFK exit", you have to wonder. 

Like I told Ron, I don't think he will be driving long.  According to what the driver said, he basically tried to go on disability (even though he can drive, bend over, tie down a wheelchair, very physical work), and was denied.  Maybe he thinks if he gets fired he will get unemployment. 

Not if you're fired for cause.  Ron and I picked up some labor law. 

Praise God, we got off the vehicle with all the inventory.  I said thank you and did not file a complaint. 

I put the chair in our stockroom.  Something is going on as regards the stockroom.  I'm not sure what.  We may lose it soon, but the other vendor's guy said we won't, they're just going all around it.  Huh. 

Nice. 

The other vendor has a lot more "stuff" than he needs, especially since he is losing locations.  He will need to do some purging at some point.  I wonder what will induce that. 

At any rate, I was friendly and got Ron pushed off to our area (a good roll in the wheelchair, holding soda and pastry in his lap).  We got there and I removed my stuff, then I got Ron settled. 

I heard him groaning at one point, and sitting down.  Hm.  That bad.  (see the post on his back)

I tagged all my pastry, and stocked it.  I cleaned the glass fronts and then - it was time to deal with THE BEAST! 

It looks so innocent, a nice little glass front bottle vendor soda machine.  But inside lurks a demonic and twisted heart. 

Basically, I fixed the problem, but the mechanism is mounted on a slide that does not slide.  So I had to duct tape over the coin slot. 

It was a lot more exciting than that.  There was a pocket knife, a mallet, a lot of cursing, and a postal worker saying "That thing still bugging you?" 

I was glad my crystal deodorant works so well.  I'd have smelled like an old sock. 

Tomorrow we will have to meet a repairman to fix this, but we've basically told the state we don't want it anymore.  We have battled this thing for years.  It continues to cause us trouble.  It needs to go away.  A canned soda machine (and we have a perfectly good one unplugged due to power issues) will make just as much, if not more money, without all the drama. 

I hate drama. 

Back Attack!

Ron and I were talking "I really wish I could blog about this" I told him. 

"Why?" 

"Because I work things out when I'm writing." 

"Oh, OK, then. You can tell them." 

Ron's back is a mess.  He can't even stand upright without groaning in pain. 

He has a back condition dating back to childhood.  I've seldom seen it bother him.  It sure is now. 

He didn't even try to move any vending machines (the usual attack trigger).  He had 2 or 3 due to that.  One time we had been at the hospital for several hours.  He was lying on the exam bed and the doctor asked "Did you try to move anything?" and Ron went "Oh, yeah, I tried to move the coffee machine." 

I had been up for almost a day straight.  I'd sat next to vomiting woman for hours.  I was very glad Ron was surrounded by so many witnesses!    I gave him "the eye". 

A couple weeks later, I caught him trying to move another machine!  Agh!  You can bet I scolded him. 

So, basically, Ron's back didn't grow right.  It's going to go out. 

My part in the program - my response. 

We took Ron to work in the wheelchair.  It's probably easier to have him in the wheelchair than to have him walking or on the cart.  He was able to work. 

He'll be able to work tomorrow, too. 

And, praise God, he can take care of his "personals".  So really it's not a big deal for me. 

Other than watching him suffer, of course. 

He has a doctor's appointment for next week if it doesn't get better. 

The Game

I'm feeling pretty traumatized today. 

The neighbor kids must have had a rough day - they were literally slamming their soccer ball into the fence, and side of my house, today for well over half an hour.  I get it.  They need to work out their little agressions (but if they think their lives are "hard" now wait until they're on their own).   5 kids live in maybe 1400 square feet, and that's after Dad illegally converted the garage into 2 extra bedrooms. 

It's just difficult for me to handle all the banging and screaming and very loud thumps against my house.  Oh, don't ever buy a house on a zero property line.  I wanted to go yell at them to keep it down, but that's probably what Mom was yelling at them before they went out to "play". 

I do thank God I don't have any windows on that side of the house.  I know for a fact the kids broke two bay windows on their own house.  Since Dad is in construction, he replaced them himself. 

I've thought about it.  if the kids break one of my windows I am calling a professional to replace them and giving Dad the bill.  I don't want a "neighbor" giving me a "warranty" on a repair job.  I've seen how that ends up - in court. 

I'd have Dad (this is the stuff I think about trying not to make my head pop when the kids are at it) sign something saying "My kids broke your window, I will pay to replace it".  Then I would make him board it up.  I'd have the professional out, pay them, and present Dad with the bill. 

I think that would put paid to the "games" for a while. 

I just don't understand - why a man who clearly wanted a large, active, family, bought a house on such a small lot.  He and his wife both drive.  They could have bought a trailer on 5 acres for half the mortgage if they wanted.  The kids would be safe, plenty of room to run around and scream... but they picked a 3 bedroom house on a 4 thousand square foot lot.  Subtract 2000 for the house and driveway.  Then, on that lot, they put an enclosed patio and a large shed - taking off another thousand square feet.  Now the kids only have a thousand square feet to run around, scream, and kick the ball. 

I did have to ban them from the yard.  I didn't have a problem with people in the yard, per se.  I did have a problem with packs of kids coming in the yard, together.  Since I don't like loud noises I didn't like them yelling, screaming, running around, and loudly banging my gate.  However, when the oldest started talking about us, when I was sitting 3 feet away on the other side of the curtain, I put an end to it.  "For safety reasons, your kids are no longer allowed in my yard." 

They come by now and then after losing a ball.  I always tell them I will get it.  I do so and throw it over the fence. 

I think they assume if they keep coming by, one day I will relent and let them in the yard.  And I might, but they always come by, in packs looking for the ball.  It would be worse than before, so the policy remains. 

My backyard is equivalent to their whole lot.  They want to use it as a playground.  Which is why Dad should have bought them a house with a bigger yard. 

Someone I know says I don't understand little boys.  The implication being: boys must be noisy.  Boys must by rowdy little jocks who throw things into my home.   Boys must roam my yard in large packs, seeking trouble, if given permission. 

I guess I don't understand. 

I didn't sign up for this

I read the above statement a few months after Ron's accident.  I'd found a support group for family of head injury survivors.  Most were parents of the victim, with a few wives. 

One had enough - he lost his temper with her one day in front of their son and she left him, saying "I didn't sign up for this." 

Then I had planned to segue into a blog about how I didn't think Ron would be where he is now; and how Ron never expected me to have such deep mental issues, but we work it out anyway.  I think I just did that. 

In some ways Ron and I do a lot more for each other than the "average" couple, in other ways we don't.  Watching Divorce Court, I'm amazed how many men say they feel unloved if the house is messy and they have to fix their own dinner.  That's life with me. 

Ron can't admire me visually, but I don't care about that.  He thinks I'm cute and that's all that matters.  He feels loved as he heats up his TV dinner. 

I have a horrible depression today.  We went to Walmart.  What did I buy?  Capris (I finally found a decent solid black - many of this years' styles seem to be a dirty wash with a dorky cuffed hem).  Hot Dogs.  Ice Cream.  Sausage links.  Depression food. 

I need simple foods.  If I won the lotto I'd definitely have a chef, or a multitasker who could cook. 

I hate the anxiety the most; the stupid obsessional thoughts.  I guess that's why I get so frustrated when someone shares they are anxious.  I want to slap them and tell them to get out of it, but it doesn't work for me. 

I hate that small things bother me so much.  I hate it when the neighbors make noise, but that's completely unreasonable.  [sigh]  The whole thing, even aside from the manias, depressions, and psychosis, is just burdensome. 

When God calls me home, one way or another (rapture or death) you can bet I'm going. 

On a more positive note I did find some good capris today.  I just got them off the rack.  I have the receipt if they don't fit.  One time I washed a pair of jeans and the back pocket just dissolved.  It was crazy.  I always hang onto clothing receipts for a while. 

I bought some cheese-on-cheese crackers for work (I won't get paid back but I'm OK with that because I do consume a little merchandise now and then).  I got bug spray - the mosquitos have been really bad lately. 

I also got milk.  Without violating Ron's privacy, I can say we think some protein shakes will be helpful.  They can't hurt. 

I bought some Powerade bottles.  I drank most of it today.  Then I made shakes and put them in the bottles (which are a lot better than anything they had on the shelf).  I made 3 quarts total, one for the fridge, 2 for the freezer. And I have a little milk if I want to do cereal for dinner. 

I do a lot of dinners like that when I'm down. 

Long jabby things

Ron's felt very unwell today.  He isn't drinking, he just feels terrible. 

I told him once I would ask before posting about him, on something like this.  So, I can tell you a lot of the day revolved around Ron not feeling well. 

But not the details. 

I can say I slept in a little, deciding to do my God Time in the later afternoon before I get on the computer.  Otherwise, in the morning, I'm rushing through it. 

I took a shower.  I really like my new shampoo/conditioner combo.  One thing I have found frustrating - all the slangy terms long-haired women use like "cowashing" and "cone free".  I managed to figure out what all that meant but why not just type the word? 

So, Suave Moroccan Infusions continues to garner high points.  I like the fragrance, it's very light.  It conditions without getting my hair greasy. 

When I see other women with long hair, one thing worries me: many times the hair is greasy at the head level, then gets very dry and tangled as you travel down the strand of hair.  Maybe they don't know the "intensive conditioning" stuff goes at the end of the hair, not the scalp.  Maybe they didn't wash their hair.  Maybe they are doing some slangy fad thing they read on a message board.  But it looks horrible.  If I thought my hair looked like that I'd cut it. 

My customers would revolt, though.  Oh, they'd have fits.  That's right.  They sure did last time! 

It was funny, though, when I was looking for shampoo/conditioner.  I had a choice between frizz control, or shiny.  I went with shiny.  Next time I might try frizz control. 

Between the humidity and the wind, every woman in Houston - everyone who spends more than 10 minutes outside in a day - has frizzy hair. 

Another gripe, people who use the very strongly fragranced detergent.  It smells like detergent.  I don't like the smell of detergent.  I, personally, find it offensive.  I use minimally fragranced detergents with no fabric softener. 

Among one Houston subculture, they use the word "Loud" to describe a strong fragrance.  It's a good term.  Please don't walk around with your loud clothes. 

It's like the time I put a package of Reese's PB Cups on top of a box of detergent.  We got home in 15 minutes but the chocolate was ruined.  It tasted awful. 

That's the only time, in my life, I haven't been able to eat a Reese's PB cup.  Same goes for fragrance: less is more. 

That's one reason I detest Fructis products.  They all smell like rotting fruit.  It's horrible.  Why would I want that on my body? 

Some people like a lot of fragrance.  I do, to a small extent, in my home.  I have air fresheners.  But I have a lot of headaches and Ron is often allergic.  So I might use a cone air freshener now and then but that's it. 

Sometimes we ride in a cab and get out reeking of fake strawberries or "odor killer".  I have to wash the clothes the second we get home.  Now, if I had a cab I'd probably have it strongly fragranced, because some of the paratransit clients don't understand, or practice, hygene. 

So, we went to the warehouse.  I got what I thought I needed.  We went to work.  I was out of pastry, which I did not get.  Pastry was fine yesterday, though.  Agh. 

I stocked what I could.  The idea is presenting a full-looking machine with good products that will vend properly.  We manage that pretty well. 

However, "The Beast" is still acting up.  I am really ready to take a hammer to the thing.  I am so frustrated.  The State pays us back - 3 months after we make the repair.  In the meantime money that could have gone for inventory is "on loan".  Often, the machine isn't fixed either. 

If they say they want it back, they can have it.  I am sick of it.  Just give me a regular canned soda machine.  They are such good machines.  The complex ones - including the dreaded Vendo V-40, not so much.  I've had several repairmen walk by the machine, pale, and say "I hate those things".  These are guys who can rebuild anything. 

In the meantime, it is assigned to us so we are required to try to keep it in working order.  Look out, machine.  Your little coin bypass issue is about to get schooled. 

Ron and I decided we just weren't up for it, today. 

Besides, we'll need some tools.  Long jabby things.  Probably a mallet. 

After work, we came home.  I took a nap.  It's supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow so we have the day off. 

That'll be nice. 

Even nicer when Ron and I are feeling better. 

Skewered

It was awful.  The party machine went on until 2 AM. 

I don't even want to talk about it anymore.  I arose after 4 hours' sleep to find my precious Torbie curled up in bed. 

I gave her morning kisses and petting as I do every day, and took a shower.  I did my God Time later. 

I ate some yogurt, but not enough, and took my antidepressant.  I got pretty queasy.  Metrolift was on time, but we got the scenic tour or north Houston before they dropped us off. 

The warehouse greeter offered me a pastry, which I declined.  I had to explain my medication had made me queasy.  She was really shocked to hear that. 

Shocked that I am on medication maybe?  I don't know. 

Anyway, we didn't have much money so we got the basics we knew we needed.  I got some chips, would have liked more. 

I didn't need the pastry.  I thought I did.  I'm glad I didn't get it.

Oh, boy.  Now my legs are erupting in hives.  This is not fun.  I took a benadryl. 

I got 2 boxes of chips and Ron's soda.  We went to work and stocked.  I need more merchandise.  They really like what I'm stocking. 

Snack #2 is even accepting bills again.  Awesome. 

Ron asked me to do a pull.  It's a fancy term for "take the money out of the vending machine".  You notice I never talk about plans to do this, beforehand.  I did, but as I worked on the Beast (bottle vendor) I noticed it had error messages and a flashing error light. 

The coin mech is very tricky and slides out with great difficulty.  Ron's told me he wants to be the only one to do it "So I won't blame you".  He did that. 

I discovered we had a horrific coin jam on the "highway" between the coin mech and the bucket.  Example: You buy a soda.  You pay in quarters, but the coin mech is full.  It doesn't need the quarters so it chutes them off to the bucket in the bottom of the machine (all machines have that setup, with variations).  The chute was jammed. 

It also tapered from top to bottom, so it became progressively more difficult to extract the coins.  I ended up using very bad language and taking a walk at one point. 

Remember I was pretty sleep deprived, too. 

I sat down and decided to do something I could do, I filled the change bank.  It needed dimes and nickels, and I had it right there, so why not? 

Ron and I decided we needed a skewer of some sort.  I found a piece of scrap metal in some construction debris, a straight wire about 8 inches long.  It was about the diameter of a pencil lead.  We got working with that.  No luck at first. 

I borrowed a mallet and got to work.  You'd be surprised to learn how often "fixing" a machine means beating on it with a heavy object. 

I began hitting the side of the chute with the mallet as Ron skewered it from above.  We could hear large coin falls - groups of them falling at once.  A couple of those and we were fixed.  Thank God. 

Then we had to remount the coin mech (harder than you'd think) and get the bugger to slide back into place.  It's the kind of work that either strengthens your faith, because you know only God can get this going again; or makes a complete athiest out of you because you doubt a loving God could do this to you! 

We had a bit to say about the state of Texas and "lowest bidders" as well.  Agh.

When this all started, I told Ron "We have 12 minutes before we have to go outside". We had to suspend our ride.  But we got a new ride pretty fast when we were ready.  We only had to wait 45 minutes.

But the driver was nice. 

Best of all, I got a nap.  #6 had the little kids outside and I had some wierd dreams (I could hear them babbling, playing, and someone got a boo-boo), but I still slept great for about 2 hours. 

It's sad to see how badly I'm affected by a little sleep deprivation. 

Two days off

Ron gave me two days off in a row.  Nice days, even. 

And I'm sick and I can't appreciate them.  AGH.  I remind myself God has an eternity of wonderful days with fascinating activities. 

Yesterday I thought I would run two errands, Walmart, and Dollar Tree.  I went to Walmart and got some simple things.  I have very little appetite and have lost 5 pounds since I got sick.  I just don't get hungry when I'm sick. 

It used to scare Mom to death.  Then I'd be better, and eating everything. 

I got my items, some stuff for Ron, and then we came home.  I put away my groceries and we went to Dollar Tree. 

I wanted to get some of the $1 5 LED flashlights.  We had a power outage a while back and I realized they'd be useful in every room.  I found some. 

I also got a 3 LED flashlight - it was a little brighter.  So either is good for disaster supplies.  I got some batteries for the flashlights and called it a day. 

I was exhausted.  I mean, completely wiped out "I want to lie down right now" exhausted.  I realized I'd overdone it. 

So I went home and tried to take a nap, but the neighbor kids thought it was such a nice day they'd run around, scream, and kick the ball around right outside my bedroom.  [moan] 

I did sleep in pretty late today.  I got my shower, tried my new shampoo (Suave Moroccan Infusions) and "shine mask".  My hair's a little frizzy but it's nice and shiny.  I did my God Time, with Torbie. 

It will be interesting to see if the new hair care improves my hair over time.  I will need to think about trimming, though.  Out of the ponytail, it reaches my waist. 

When I'm rolling over in bed, I plant an elbow.  If I catch my hair that's going to be a very bad night!  I'll keep sleeping with the ponytail for now but I may need to trim a bit so that doesn't happen. It didn't, but I saw how it could have. 

I watched a little Law & Order, Criminal Intent.  I really like Goren and Eames.  I tried to take a nap but the party machine started up.  Apparently it is someone's birthday, or they're celebrating spring break at grandma's house.  I don't know. 

I just wish they'd be quiet. 

The worst neighbor

Ugh.  Wierd stew today. 

Sick.  Depressed.  Party Machine neighbors have been going since 2 PM.  I don't get it. 

The house is owned by 2 senior women.  An older man (60's plus) also lives there.  I have seen one of the old ladies walking a small child into the house. 

Normally they have 2 sedans and a grey pickup.  All is well when it's just them.  The gold pickup is the party machine.  When the kids who owned it rented the house, they'd leave the vehicle open with the stereo blasting, then open the front door of the house. 

They live on a bayou.  The mosquitoes have been horrific this year - I got bit 10 times last night just bringing in the trash can!  I can only imagine the interior of the home, if they're still doing that. 

I think they get home after school and do the music until the seniors come home, then turn it off.  I believe they are in college ot tech school.  They don't work, always have weekends off, maybe they got a student loan.  Or maybe the seniors are carrying them.  I don't know, and I don't really care. 

Anyway - RUDE.  Very rude.  I don't do anything that affects the whole neighborhood in a negative manner.  Ron did call the homeowner's association to send them another letter.  Hopefully that'll help. 

It's always something, though, with neighbors in general.  Either they have loud kids, or invasive kids, or loud stereos.  They're dealing drugs, or living on welfare (old neighborhoods).  I guess my favorite was the lady at the Crackhead apartments. 

The Crackhead apartments are very near work.  We lived there for that reason.  Ron did not want paratransit service at the time, so we had to be within bus and walking distance of work, 24 hours a day. 

I knew it would be bad the first time we visited.  I saw a filthy mattress covering the broken out window of a ground floor unit.  In the year we stayed, the unit was never repaired.  The ground was littered with empty syrup bottles. 

Back then, "Purple Drank", also known as "Slow" was very popular.  People put coedine cough syrup into fruit flavored sodas and drank the entire bottle in one night.  It was a depressant. "It makes me feel very slow and relaxed" one user said. 

I knew about the drug dealing in the complex, at least 3 dealers for about 100 units.  I kept my head down, and after my initial report to a scoffing landlady, and the resultant lecture from her on "snitching", I kept my mouth shut. 

I was very glad Ron and I lived on the third floor, even though the staircase wobbled alarmingly as we climbed it.   The apartment itself had some water leaks, through the brick and siding.  Some kind of electrical, too, I forget what, but I worried about it burning us all down. They were pretty good on smaller maintenance issues, though.  The apartment, a one bedroom, our first with a fireplace.  We liked that.  The rent was pretty cheap. 

However, we had a problem.  Houston apartments are built in the "many small building" styles.  That way, if one catches on fire the landlord only has to repair 10 units or so.  So you'll find clusters of buildings in most apartment complexes.  It's sensible. 

The unit next door was a townhouse unit - two story townhouses, one story below us.  The lady across the staircase used to take her used diapers and throw them onto the roof of the other unit.  You'd see dozens of them accumulated.  Then it would rain [gag]. 

I have to say she was probably the worst neighbor.  She used to leave bags of trash outside her unit, and throw the diapers on the roof of the next building.  She did this in front of us, like it was a totally normal activity to throw the diapers on top of the other building.  She didn't always make it, either, and the diaper would hit the sidewalk and begin to unravel...

Always use your cane!   I told Ron.  He would be able to feel, and go around, the diaper if he touched it with his cane.  If he didn't he might have stepped in it.  He never did. 

I used to see huge canisters of presweetened, instant, iced tea. I think the kids only drank that. 

One day the mother showed up at my door, it was about 11 at night, with a screaming baby.  She shoved him into my arms and said "Take him for a while." 

So I stood there with a 4 month old in my arms.  I burped him (he needed it) and took off the shirt.  I figured a baby wouldn't care if he saw me in my bra for a minute.  I changed, got a towel, put it in my shoulder, and picked him back up.  He was crying fretfully. 

"His cousin hit him in the head with a [hard toy], while he was sleeping." The mother told me when she picked him up.  He did seem OK. 

It was nice to "visit" with a baby for an hour or so, and I was happy to give him back.  The mother told me her sister had just died.  Sis had 4 kids.  So instead of parenting one child, she had 5.  "I won't leave them in the system" she said.  "But my caseworker is all over me [about education]." 

The mother was expecting, I think, to just live off the welfare as she raised the kids, and the state was saying "That's not going to happen."  She kept flinging the diapers, and I didn't see much of her after that. 

I did see a card on our door one day to call child services.  We did.  She had apparently skipped town and they hoped we had some insight into where she might have gone.  I said no. 

That was that.  Then I had the duplex pervert.  He lived on one side of the duplex.  Ron and I were on the other. 

He worked at the plant, where we do.  One night I cleaned the litter box and took it out to the trash can outside.  As I came out, the neighbor bolted from his position right outside my bedroom window.  "I was checking for wasps" he said. 

It was late at night.  He began stammering out excuses as I gave him the look.  "From now on," I told him "Let the landlord handle the wasps.  I don't want you outside my bedroom again for any reason and next time I'm calling the police." 

When I went back in, I adjusted the blinds.  I had them slightly open so the cats could look out.  I fixed that.  Silly me, I assumed no one would look in the window.  I don't think he could have seen anything, though.  Since he worked nights the worst he could have done is try to peek in at night on his days off. 

Ick.  It's a good thing I knew where he worked. 

We actually went back to the old duplex area a few weeks ago.  4 cars now live where I did.  I wonder how they like it.  It's just a 2 bedroom, and the second bedroom is very tight.  The zipcode is rampant with sex offenders.  I wouldn't suggest any woman or child live there. 

I wonder if the second bedroom still floods when it rains. 

This is a very long post to state the obvious: there is always a neighbor problem.  It may be a noise issue, like party machine vehicles. 

I told Ron "If they're in college they didn't get to do spring break.  So I guess they're having it here."  I could see them doing that - a couple of days of loud drinking and music in the subdivision, instead of somewhere fun. 

The worst neighbor, though, would be the thoughts in my head when I'm having to tolerate other human's imperfections. 

Heather!  It's not heaven!  Suck it up! 

But he's blind...

I don't believe in typecasting. 

Black men aren't all thugs, rappers, or athletes.  White guys aren't all computer geeks. 

Not every blind guy is a pervert; but I've met my fair share.  I have a theory on that.

Admittedly, I have girl parts.  I like men, specifically, I like my husband.  So I don't know how the male mind works. 

However, some men "look".  The "nice" ones are discreet and don't make me feel used. 

What if the man's blind?  Well, some of them become gropers.  Yeah.  You heard that. 

"You'd be amazed" Ron told me "At the trouble we got into at the school for the blind, finding ways to get into trouble."  One thing I found particularly troubling, the teenagers (I think they "had" to be 15) were allowed to check the book "Girls and Sex" out of the library.  It was a very graphic sex manual. 

A lot of people think the blind are more "spritual" than that - they aren't. They are human just like everyone else.  And if you're reading this for the first time I am not blind.  I am married to a blind man, though. 

So, here's a guy with an interest in "checking out" women.  How does he do that?  Well, in some cases they become gropers.  You said that, Heather. 

I know, offhand, about 10 male blind friends of Ron who were not.  But I also knew at least 4 guys who were.  They would hug me and move in for full body contact as they did so.  They would grind up against me in a strip club fashion.  Actually that would make 5 gropers. 

One guy, a co worker and no one Ron knew, used to put his hand on my butt, right over the crack, as I walked him places.  Everytime he did it I would stop, take off his hand, and scold him.  Then he would go back to doing it. 

It ended with a stern warning one day, and me leaving him on sidewalk at the wrong side of a very busy intersection.  "I warned him" I told my boss "I told him if he put his hand on my butt one more time..."

"But he's blind!" my sighted boss replied  "He didn't know his hand was on your butt."  I pushed my glasses up and scoffed. 

"Tony" I told him "I'm married to a blind man.  He knew where his hand was at all times.  He's a pervert and a harasser.  I could file sexual harassment charges, but I won't because I don't want to hassle you.  I have asked him repeatedly to stop, and he won't.  You know what that means as regards harassment...."  I let him think on that  "But like I said, I'm not doing that.  I'm going to drop this on two condtions.  One, you only have a man walk him around.  He never feels up the men.  And, two, I'm done with him.  He may be blind, and I know blind, but I'm not helping him anymore."  My boss agreed. 

Funny thing, too, none of the men ever complained about getting felt up. 

Most of the other guys I met casually, one time meeting, went on the "ick" list and done. But an old schoolmate of Ron's happens to live "fairly" nearby.  He rides the paratransit service. 

He used to travel everywhere with a girlfriend, who became a wife.  I don't know how that ended, but he rides alone now.  He generally rides in the front seat. 

The usual paratransit ride is a paratransit minivan with a wheelchair conversion in the back row.  It seats 1 wheelchair, 4 clients, and a driver.  I covet the front seat due to some unpleasant experiences in the back. 

For instance, a couple of the slower guys "like" me and pester me constantly if we happen to ride together.  Some people don't bathe, or wear too much perfume, or God forbid, have open sores on their arm and it's pressed up against my bare arm. 

I'd rather sit in the front. 

First come, first served, though.  If you get there first I'm fine with it. 

We hadn't seen him in years.  Then we saw him riding by himself a few months ago.  Ron sat behind "Jonny" who sat in the front seat.  I sat behind the driver.  Good thing. 

I didn't think much when Jonny reached his arm back and rested it on Ron's knee, caressing it.  I found it moderately creepy and a little wierd, but he's blind... 

Ron looked over at me, with a WTF expression.  He picked the hand of his knee and shoved it back into the frontseat area.  "Don't touch me, man." 

Jonny kept reaching back, going under his pant leg at the ankle, trailing up Ron's bare leg, etc.  Ron treated it as a joke as I got progressively more pissed.  We finally got rid of the guy. 

"He's just trying to freak me out" Ron said.  "He wants me to get upset and object." 

I thought, glad I don't know anyone like that and left it. 

Jonny did this another time.  I finally said "If you touch my husband one more time I will get out my stun gun and zap you."  I don't have a stun gun.  The driver sat up a little, ready for the show!   Jonny stopped. 

A third occasion we got picked up, and the driver asked me to sit in the back.  "We're getting the pervert" he said.  "I don't want him feeling me up while I'm driving.   If he sits behind me he'll feel me up."  The driver went on to tell us that Jonny is well known as a groper, especially of women.  Apparently he likes to run his hand up their leg and rest it on their thigh as he talks to them.  Some object, some don't.  "They all hate it, though" he said "You can see it in their eyes." 

They probably don't object because they think he doesn't know any better, being blind. 

Today Ron went to the liquor store by himself.  That's the rule now, he's fine with it.  He was playing a comedian he had on a flash drive, for the driver.  Apparently Jonny objected. 

Ron told him "You're a damned hypocrite.  You don't want to hear the f-word because you say you're a Christian?  What about feeling everyone up?  Where is that in the Bible?  You're a pervert and a hypocrite!"  He went on for a bit apparently - after the accident, when Ron gets going even I can't stop him. 

I can stop him - quicker - though.  Apparently the driver just enjoyed the show. 

So, hopefully that will be the end of the groper.  If he touches me I warn him, then I will hurt him enough to remember. 

Please, if someone, who happens to be blind, is touching you repeatedly in a way that makes you uncomfortable SAY SOMETHING.  It is not OK.  It is not "because they're blind".  It's because they're an asshole and they will continue to molest people until someone makes them stop. 

Thanks for reading. 

Thank God for Bandanas

I probably spelled that wrong, but guess what?  I took my meds today. 

Properly medicated trumps proper spelling, and grammar, every time. 

I have a head cold.  In my family, one either had a head cold (what you'd consider a cold) or a "chest cold" (what a physician would consider bronchitis).  This is all "head". 

The runny nose has passed, I'm into the nose-blowing and clearing out congestion part of the program.  If I'm not diligent with this portion, the remains will lodge and fester into sinus trouble.  I've lived in this body for 39 years, I know a few things. 

Years ago, I got manic for bandanas.  They're cheap.  They're colorful.  I can use them to accessorize, if desired.  I liked them for wiping sweat off my face (I sweat a lot in the summer!). 

I have to avoid red and blue, due to gang issues.  Just like Ron and I never wear red or blue when we're out.  Work, and our handout spot, are in bad locations.  However, that leaves a whole spectrum of purples, for instance. 

I went a little nuts.  The average bandana only cost $1.  It was colorful and useful, and actually had a practical application or two (glasses-cleaning, spill mopping, etc.).  One time a driver, for whatever reason, said she couldn't figure out the defrost button on her vehicle.  I handed over a microfiber hand towel for her to wipe the inside of the window. 

I always tried to carry one.  Then, time passed, my medication got better, and I saw them as a shameful reminder of manias past. 

It's true - the thing I love so much when manic often shames me when I'm in an average mood, or depressed. 

Happily, I seldom get physically ill.  In the last five years, I had 1 cold (which evolved into "sinus trouble), a viral sinus infection, two bladder infections, and assorted cysts.  This cold isn't very shocking, but I've learned something fascinating. 

Dad, when I was a kid, carried a "hanky" everywhere.  He'd blow his nose, clean my glasses, and use it to wipe the dipstick (after checking his oil, you filthy mind!), all in one day.  He still carries one to this day. 

I thought it was embarrassing and "gross", even though Mom washed them daily. 

Now, I'm at home.  My nose is running, I'm sick.  I have a pile of bandanas in the closet.  Yup.  They make a great 'hanky".    I have a huge pile of used tissues in my trash can. 

I have clean bandanas I already washed. 

Hm.  Which one is "gross"? 

I also see a lot of practical work applications.  I need to be able to clean things with a soft dry cloth.  I can do that.  It'll also come in handy if I sneeze. 

One memorable day Ron whacked his head on the hand cart.  He was bleeding.   Could have used one then, too. 

3 Encounters

I had 3 encounters today, but I can only remember 2 right now.  Well, I'll just share the ones I do recall. 

We got up and went to the warehouse.  We got bottled drinks.  We took them to work and got them into the fridge. 

Important: we were there during the other guy's window of occupation.  Ron and I decided he could just act casual, like we just saw him on Friday, "How's it going" no drama, and see how that progressed.  It seemed pretty safe.  If he barked at us we could just leave. 

However, our ride was over an hour late and we missed him.  We did see the other guy's employees, both of them very nice men.  [first encounter]

We went back to the warehouse.  It was snack time.  I got my snacks.  Ron kept asking if I wanted to eat first and I said no. 

I got my merchandise (I added Fruit Rollups to the lineup).  Ron's very amenable to my creativity as long as everything has a good food cost.  I was actually a very bad customer and opened the box.  If the rolls were longwise, I couldn't stock them in the machines.  If they were shortwise, I could.  They were shortwise.  I paid for the box I opened. 

After all that, I went and got some pizza and fixed Ron's hot dog (relish, onion, ketchup, and mustard). 

I'm glad I only have 3 machines.  I can barely keep them stocked.  It's insane.  I was busy for quite a while.  Ron sat down and read his book while I stocked. 

I ate my pizza and stared around absently.  The greeter was receipt-checking, 4 people lined up to go.  A child ran by, a toddler, clearly unattended.  She bolted out the exit door. 

"The greeter's always talking about her grandson" I thought.  "She'll go after him.  If she doesn't the nice older couple will... or the people behind them."  I waited a few seconds.  They just stood there shaking their heads as the BABY ran out into the parking lot. 

I jumped up (twanging my knee again, it's not happy, but the kind of injury I'm glad I got), and bolted after the baby.  She was about 2 and a half.  I ran up to her and she looked up at me trustingly.  I reached down and took a warm little hand as she looked up with big brown eyes. 

I used my "talking to the cats voice".  "Where's Mommy?"  The baby giggled.  "Where's MOM-me?  Where is she?  Let's find MOMMY!"  The baby nodded and I led her back into the store. 

The 5 people who didn't help stood around shaking their heads and talking about Bad Mothers as a frantic woman ran up to us.  The little girl squealed and reached up.  We found Mommy. 

The mother was profoundly grateful.  I just said "Happy to help, I found her in the parking lot."  As she left, later, the mother thanked me again.  Not necessary.  [encounter 2]

I just did what God wanted me to do.  I know the horror of a loved one hit by a car.  I wouldn't inflict that on anyone. 

Now, let me tell you about Bad Mothers.  When I was about that age, I lived in a house with a basement.  Like many homes on the East Coast, the basement was easily as large as the house.  We had the formal living room, kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and 3 bedrooms "up".  We had a large family room area, furnace, and laundry room "down". 

My mother must have been depressed.  Usually, she left me locked in my crib/room when she was depressed.  This time she let me out.  I followed her to the top of the stairs and cried as she departed to do laundry.  She'd left the door open so I decided to "try" the stairs.  I fell of course, down a whole flight of stairs, battered and bruised, hitting my head.  I lay there at the base of the stairs for quite a while.  I cried and cried.  No one came. 

That's a bad mother.  [encounter 3]  Yes, I've forgiven her, I had to.  But I remember how often she failed me due to her illness and addiction.  It bolsters my resolve to be better than that.  To challenge my illness - to fight it with medication, faith, and fortitude.  I resolve I will not surrender to Bad Thoughts and depression.  I will conquer them, they will not conquer me. 

Most importantly, I am the only one who will suffer as a result of my illness. 

The kid?  No big deal.  God chose to use me.  God set it all up.  I just got her. 

I bought it when I was manic

Dad died laughing when I said "Well, I bought it when I was manic..."  He understood completely.  My mother was the type to buy a new car when she got manic.  A box of hair color is not a big deal. 

I like the henna, glad I got it, but a little tired of the very loud red at my part.  I have some brown henna.  I plan to use it on the part, out a few inches, in an ombre type pattern.  Brown out a few inches and then it goes red.  I think that would be cool. 

I'll play with it in a few weeks. 

I also got a bag of Petsmart Simply Nourish Limited Ingredient dry cat food, salmon flavor.  3.5 pounds.  Turns out the girls adore it.  They love to munch at it. 

Now, the Blue Wilderness Duck isn't going anywhere, that's a staple, but we like to have a few offerings for the cats.  I can't, personally, imagine anything worse than eating the same food every day.  Ron and I like to provide variety for the girls.  Duck, or salmon.  We also have some chicken we're using up. 

Glad I got them both, the henna, and the cat food. 

I'm still getting over the cold, but I slept over 14 hours last night.  I had been watching a Law & Order Criminal Intent marathon, I wasn't surprised I had a dream about Goren.  If I "liked" any characters on TV one would be Goren.  The other would be Elliot from Leverage. 

Anyway, I also had a strange dream about Acres Homes (where I do the Bible handouts) and a gospel rapper named Foe (who does exist).  I was trying to get Foe to help a young man in trouble, but the people in Acres Homes kept giving me money instead.  $209 to be exact. 

That's what happens when I sleep awhile.  After I woke myself up coughing, I got up around noon.

I took my shower, did my God time (both pretty big deals when I'm sick and depressed) and ate some pizza.  It's good.  I need to eat another slice and take my pills, though. 

I think I can manage that. 

And here's to hoping I get another decent night's sleep. 

"They're all hypocrites"

He didn't deserve the tip, but he got it anyway. 

First, let's start at the beginning.  Me, coughing all night.  I can't take cough suppressants.  I forget what they do to me but it's awful.  Oh, yeah, "Robotripping". 

It can act as a "dissociative hallucinogen".  Like I tell people who used to do drugs, "You took them to get out of reality, I take mine to stay in it!"  I like reality and would prefer to remain. 

Guaifenesin - I can take a little, in very small doses, but it raises my lithium level.  Not good. 

Decongestants interact and can cause a fatal seizure. 

So, most cold meds are out.  Happily, everything is draining so it's not setting up camp in "my sinus".  Doesn't that bug you, when someone goes on about "My sinus hurts"?  You have 8 sinus cavities. 

They're clear. 

So, we went to the warehouse, and then to work.  I wanted to get it over and done with before the rain. 

One of our drivers, a muslim, shared his theory that aliens took the missing airliner full of people.  Oh boy.  He was a decent driver, though. 

We got to work, stocked, did an inventory.  Things looked pretty good, everyone was behaving.

We had a long wait on our ride home.  Ron seems to have trouble when a particular dispatcher handles our trips.  "Hang up when you get her" I tell him.  He doesn't want to seem rude. 

I say it's ruder to wait an hour because she bungled it. 

Anyway, we did wait almost an hour, in the drizzle, with me sick.  On the way home the driver seemed rather alarmed. 

I looked in the rearview mirror.  A white pickup was tailgating us, flashing his lights, and weaving in and out of 3 lane's worth of traffic.  He was pretty scary.  We'd change lanes, he'd follow.  He'd follow us back to our original lane, weaving the whole time. 

He drove the way I did, the one time I attempted a freeway.  That's saying a lot. 

Our driver did something evasive and cut across a couple lanes of traffic, bolting through a yellow light.  At the next light, the pickup came up behind us and passed us.  As he did, I noted 2 things:  one, he was a white man texting; two, he had a "Jesus is Lord" trailer hitch on the pickup. 

I had a lot to say about that.  "What do you expect?" our driver said bitterly "Christians all hypocrites."   

We got home.  I was tired.  I was cold.  I desperately wanted a nap and #6 had taken the SUV - so they were all out at some Saturday morning athletic event.  I got into bed. 

Just to hear doors banging and happy, wild, screams.  A vigorous soccer game ensued against the side of my house.  [curse you, zero property line!]

So much.  For my nap. 

I got up and did my God time.  The rain started and they all went inside.  At least it was quiet, but now I was wound up and couldn't sleep (I tried).   I laid down for a little bit and kept coughing. 

I think most of my "issue" is just PTSD.  Unexpected screaming, banging, and frantic doorbell-ringing everytime they lose a ball.  Pretty hard on my nerves. 

I don't do antianxiety pills, either. 

Pretty cute

In a lot of ways my day was awful today. 

We'll dwell on that later. 

For now, cat photo.  This can be found if I turn my head.   Torbie's on the left, Baby Girl's on the right.  Baby Girl is also known as "Daddy's Girl". 


Pretty cute.  :) 

The worst yard on the block

Ron and I walked into the Sam's Club this morning.  One of our favorite greeters headed for us.  "Hi, ya'll, how ya..." 

"Wait!" I held up my hand.  "I have a cold!  I don't want to get you sick!"  He laughed and stood back as I showed him my card, and got Ron settled (I usually park him in an unused scooter). 

I did the same with the manager, who also laughed.  I really hate being contagious.  I want to stay home until I'm well.  I don't want to be the person who infected people.  I hate that. 

I'm fine with the fact that I was most likely infected by someone at a store, or the sick driver I had a few days ago.  She was just trying to pay the bills.  She didn't get dressed for work thinking "I'm going to make Heather sick!"  No, she thought about how bad she felt, and how she had to work anyway. 

I don't actually feel that bad.  This is more mild-to-moderate.  I just don't want it getting stuck in my sinuses.  I experimented.  I took 2 different doses of medication to help; and felt worse each time.  So I'm all natural. 

Well,  mostly.  I do have some favorites:

Halls Pectin drops, and Luden's pectin drops.  Good stuff.  (Conventional cough drops make me sick to my stomach)

Dr Sheffield's Vapor Cream.  I got it today.  It's like a vapor rub lotion in a tube.  It really helps.  I am definitely getting more when I go back to the Dollar Store. 

I am, at home, doing rubs with tea tree oil. 

Whey protien 2x a day minimum. 

Anyway, I'm managing pretty well.  I want to get all the yuck out of my nose so I don't get sinus troubles.  I am fine with a runny nose. 

I sneeze very little, my throat's a little unpleasant, but not bad.  It's mainly just the tickle/burn/running nose. 

I think I started this on Monday so I should be fine in no time.  I always get a dry cough for a while, which Ron finds endlessly annoying, but even that will be gone in a few weeks. 

That's good, because I need to mow.  You could pasture an animal out back.  #2 mowed his yard today so I have the "worst" yard on the block.   I don't want to have the worst yard on the block.

So, what did I do after Sam's?  We went to Mardel and stocked the vending machine (Ron handled the drinks).  I met the new manager, who was startled to find me in "his" breakroom.  I told him "Ron and I are the vendors" and he was fine. 

I went to the dollar store.  Ron wanted hot peanuts and some chips.  I got that.  I got my vapor cream and some lemonade mix.  I love citrus when I'm sick. 

I got some Hot and Spicy sandwiches at McDonald's, and then went to the import store.  I showed off my hair and bought some more henna.  I also got garlic naan.  Pan bread.  Oh. 

I plan to eat that with the hummus I got last time (It's in a can and will keep) in a few days.  Yum. 

I got a little package of Brittania cookies.  They are very good.  She said she could get me a case.  Oh, no.  I'd get into trouble. 

I do wish I could sell them in the vending machines.  They have a lovely intense orange flavor, but only 4-6 cookies (I forget) per package. 

Then I came home and took a nap.  The neighbor kids came home about when I woke up and played outside for a while.  They're really loud; it's impossible to sleep. 

Thank God I didn't have a migraine. 

I hab a cold

Tired so I did a video blog. 

I have a moderate cold.  I hope I didn't spread it today. 

You get some Ron in the background I think. 

Showing off my hair

First things first.  I did a henna last night. 

This is what I did.  One package Reshma henna (It was either original or natural).  I mixed it with the juice of 2 lemons, and very strong brewed tea. 

I applied it to my hair and let it sit for 4 hours.  Then I rinsed it out and "washed" it with conditioner. 

I woke up to this: 

A driver took this photo.  She did a good job! 

It's a little tangled because I was out in the wind, frequently. 

It's great to know henna is a conditioning and protective treatment as well as a coloring one.  I had leftover so I plan to use that in a few weeks, then do another "proper" treatment a few weeks later, about 10 days before Mom and Dad come to visit. 

I didn't sleep well.  I woke up with a sore throat and the sniffles, and I've been sneezing. 

Great. 

I knew I'd be shorted on sleep duration so I had already taken my shower the night before.  I did my God Time before I got on the computer.  The girls (cats) didn't mind.

I like calling them the girls. 

We went to work, first.  We needed money to buy supplies and I got it.  We also did an inventory. 

We went to the warehouse, and got the supplies.  We came back to work and put bottled drinks in the fridge.  Then we stocked the snack items and canned soda. 

You should see me tagging stuff with my (Sell by date) label gun.  I am ruthless and "shoot" all the perishable merchandise! 

One of my machines was being a butt.  Basically it comes preset.  The setting says: if the change is less than half the price of the lowest priced item, it will keep it as a "credit" to force another sale.  As far as I can determine, there is no way around it...

My customers like to put in 75 cents to buy a bag of 65 cent chips.  They get shorted.  That's very bad. 

Today, after praying about it, I decided to set an unused coil for 5 cents!  Ha!  I tested it and they get their change now.  No one will get 2 cents coming back to them, so it will always give proper change.  Other than that horrible setting, it is a fine machine. 

Every machine has it's own glitch.  Soda 3 can only be filled halfway.  Soda 1 has a funny coin acceptor.  Soda 2 has a condensation tray that gets out of alignment if moved. 

The bottled vendor has so many glitches we call it "The Beast" - yet it's our best producer.   Snack 1 went out of order if you hit it too hard (I fixed that problem).  Snack 2 has a bad validator, and Snack 3 had the "rip off" issue. 

I made sure to post the "fix" to my business page so the customers will know I've got their backs.  That would be a good slogan: "Business Name - We've got your back!" 

You can tell I like my job.  Ron finds my passion amusing. 

My uterus decided to prove it wasn't dead after all.  Wracking cramps and the usual hemmorhage have ensued, a week late.  Along with the sniffles. 

I took my herbal stuff for immunity. 

My question, though: is it allergies?  Or am I coming down with a cold.  I just have the sniffles and a little post nasal drip. 

The "good new" allergy drugs cause horrific mental issues for me; so I can't use them.  I can only use benadryl.  That and OTC pain meds.  That is pretty much it when I'm sick.  If things are very bad I can take a mucinex (plain kind no decongestant) but carefully, because it raises lithium levels. 

If I am sick, I'll stick to vitamin C, liquids, and my very favorite: the wet handtowel in the microwave.  Oh, it's so soothing. 

When we finally got home (I skipped a lot of transportation drama) I took a nap for about 4 hours. 

Something's going on. 

We have tomorrow off, so I plan to rest up.  I don't want to have a day out and infect people if I am sick, even though I am DYING to go to the import store and show off my hair. 

Unfortunately Baby Girl has taken over my hand towel.  I'll need to get another. 

Calling menopause

It's bad when we're both depressed. 

Ron and I woke up about the same time.  "I don't want to go to Walmart" he said, exhausted.  "Why are we going?" 

"You wanted to put some money in my account and get some melatonin."  I reminded him.  My account is just for internet.

"Would you mind..." 

"I was only going for you." 

"OK, I'm going to cancel." 

I did not sleep well last night.  I suspect menopause may be a factor. 

Why, you may ask, do you think that's an issue?  Well, my cycles are WHACK.  They have never been this whack, ever.  They are getting longer, and shorter.  I'm having a week of spotting beforehand, and hardly any flow during. 

I have hot flashes.  I have trouble sleeping.  I cry even when I'm manic (that is not a bioplar thing).  The rest of it, more depression (which I find is common amongst bipolar menopausal ladies), mood issues, etc... that can all fit as well, or it could just be my crazy. 

I've decided to call menopause.  I'm almost 40.  God knows I wasn't having kids anyway. 

So, depressed.  Went back to sleep.  I had a nightmare I was trying to evacuate Torbie (fat brown tabby in my photos) from a disaster area. 

On the positive side, I was saving her.  I wasn't just leaving her to die.  [shudder] 

Torbie is my best animal friend.  She is very sweet and loving, but has enough mischief to keep me on my toes.  I know she is "older" and I may not have a long duration, but the quality more than makes up for the possible lack of time. 

One thing I can say, there's another cat downtown at 3200 Carr waiting to be saved.  I'd let it pick me the way I did with Torbie.  Forget about "I want the black one".  Nope.  Sit in the chair.  Let the cat select you.  It's really similar to The Children's Zoo episode of the Twilight Zone. 

Baby Girl brought Ron a lizard, which I caught and put out.  She later brought me a dead lizard.  I pretended to eat it and then threw it out.  It's a love offering.  I view it as such. 

Thank God it's only a lizard.  I don't miss Bubba's rats.  (shudder)

I was pretty groggy, and had slept pretty late - 10 AM.  Even with daylight savings that is still late for me.  I helped Ron with the acccounting report and brewed up some henna. 

I used Reshma "natural" henna.  From what I recall, about a half cup of powder seems to work very well.  But I kept reading how waist length hair needed the whole box.  I compromised and used about 3/4 cup (or 3/4 box).  It was too much.  Half a cup is best.  However, leftover henna is freezable and I put it in "my" part of the freezer so Ron won't eat it by accident. He'd be furious. 

I mixed it with really strong brewed tea and the juice of 2 fresh lemons, to a batter like consistency. 

I decided to get naked, in the shower.  I hadn't showered yet.  Supposedly I must wash my hair before the henna or I won't cover the greys (per internet).  If the henna got on my body I could wash it off. 

I have some odd orange spots in strange places, now.  Forget that idea - it doesn't work.  Not if you have a really good henna that stains the skin in 10 seconds. 

Which I do.  I can hardly wait to see how it turns out. 

Anyway, I got it on.  I made sort of a mess but that's why I was in the shower.  I got it on my arms and chest.  Probably my back too but no one looks at my back. 

I got it all applied.  I kept putting extra paste on my hair because I had so much, so I am saturated.  I put a clip on top of my hair.  It fell backward.  All my hair is dragging at the back of my shower cap now. 

So now I wait about 3 more hours.  Then I rinse.  And put up photos. 

I think I'm really going to like this. 

A lot about my hair

So, big news first: I got my lithium level back.  It is .5, which is good.  A little low even. 

Rather aggravating, that.  Moving on. 

My hair has been pretty dry since my henna treatment.  I decided to do some kind of moisturizing treatment.  I did a lot of research.  I went to the store and read labels. 

I decided I did not want to put mineral oil on my hair.  It depletes the body of vitamins.  I didn't want to put plysorobanobital on my hair.  Good as it might be, I want to *know* what I'm using. 

I'm also cheap, and have a bottle of grapeseed oil.  Not only that, I have some essential oils.  More research (benefits of the mania) and I concluded that grapeseed oil is very good for the hair. 

I put some grapeseed oil in a small glass bowl and added 2 drops of cedarwood (Texas of course), and one drop rose geranium oil.  I used about 1/3 cup but I still have leftovers.  3 T or a quarter cup would work better with one or two drops essential oil only. 

I decided to apply it to dry, unwashed hair (I read I could do that).  I rubbed it and combed it in, applying it with my bare hands.  That's the nice thing about using real ingredients; I didn't have to worry.  "It's on my hands!"  (my hands loved it!)

I applied it to the strands, combed, and massaged it into my scalp.  I had a couple of options at that point.  Shower cap, wait a few hours, wash it out.  Shower cap, overnight.  I went with the latter, but the shower cap was crinkly and disturbing.  I'd put an old towel over my pillow so I took off the cap halfway throught the night. 

Again, since this was all completely natural I didn't need to worry about getting it on my skin.  I sleep with my ponytail pulled up above my head, on the pillow, so it didn't get on the sheets.  The next morning, I got up, laughed at my reflection (my hair has never been *that* oily, ever), and got in the shower. 

I had a little pantene 2-in-1 shampoo + conditioner so I used that to wash.  I washed my hair twice, but found a greasy spot above one ear so I had to wash again.  It was softer, but it wasn't OMG so soft. 

I have been using the leftover oil as a "dressing" I guess, on my ends after showering.  It seems to help the ends.  I think I'll continue to do that. 

I also think my hair would have been softer had I only washed twice (my hair is pretty thick, it needed 2 washes at least). 

I will definitely do the ends.  Not so sure about the rest.  I can always add some coconut oil to the mix as well. 

I found it interesting; most of the good information was obtained from black hair pages.  They had extensive information on hot oil treatments and henna.  Not so much the "white girls" (although the long hair forum was useful). 

I won't be joining the long hair forum.  They want me to submit a photo of my hair.  Not a problem, but in the "how to" they mention "make sure the room is clean".  Oh boy, I don't need judgement in my life. 

I can lurk (look without posting or joining).  They do have useful information for women with longer hair (mine is waist length now). 

I might get a photo of my hair just for fun, for you guys.  I really love my hair at any length. 

Other people seem to love it more, when it's long.  That's easy enough, it grows fast.  So I keep it long.  I do plan to keep it trimmed to waist length so I don't have problems sitting on it and all. 

I like to sit in the front seat, for instance, in the minivan paratransit vehicles.  However, if someone gets in behind me they tend to grab the headrest (and my hair) as they get in, grunting and pulling my hair right out of my head as they lever themselves in the venicle!  OW!  So, if for some reason Ron ISN'T behind me, I pull my ponytail up over my shoulder so it hangs in front, not in back.  It only took a couple tries to learn that!  [wince] 

At any rate, I didn't do much yesterday.  I felt pretty groggy.  I do feel more alert today, but I have a headache (weather front I think). 

We worked today, so we get tomorrow off.  The machines were all behaving.  Good.  I will never take electricity for granted! 

That's it for now.