Tangerines in the food machine

She liked my wig. 

Yup. 

Yesterday was pretty hard for me.  I was really stressed out, tired, and very focused on rude neighbors.  I think I "pointed" all my stress and anxiety at that problem. 

After all, I have no idea how our business will work a month from now.  If we'll have a stockroom.  If we can manage it with our limitations.  That's pretty damned scary.  I choose to trust God.  But I have to keep reminding myself I choose to trust God. 

I decided, around 11, to mix up some henna.  I took my frozen henna out and mixed some of my 9-herb henna blend into some brewed tea and lemon juice.  It was a little runny which caused a few issues with application. 

I watched some TV and took a nap, but woke up having an anxiety issue.  Not fun. 

I had that after Bubba died, until I got Torbie.  It took her weeks to sleep with me, but just having a cat around helped me feel better. 

I waited until around 3 (what I read says let the henna and lemon juice work for 4 + hours) and applied the henna.  I like to leave it on for 4 hours. 

However, after I applied it Ron told me he'd scheduled our first pickup for 4 AM.  He wanted the option to make two trips to the warehouse. 

I wanted to go to Walmart.  I had some ideas regarding the business.  Food machine items.  More to follow. 

I decided to wash the henna out after 3 hours and fifteen minutes.  I also noticed my bladder is bothering me, and I was working on a headache. 

I forgot; hormones, and an incoming weather front, spell migraines. 

I did manage to get my henna done while watching Law & Order, Criminal Intent.  Goren & Eames. 

I rinsed it out, using conditioner, which still sounds really wierd to me.  But I don't want to go to a lot of trouble to do a henna and then undo it with a premature shampoo.  If anything my hair was still a little dry today. 

I couldn't sleep.  I kept trying but I couldn't drop off.  My bladder hurt.  I kept drinking water.  My head hurt. 

I finally fell asleep after 10 sometime.  Since I'd already taken a shower, I did some of my God Time.  I had a migraine.  I nearly vomited but I managed to hold fast. 

I took some Excedrin.  I was definitely functional.  No, it wasn't much fun picking up those cases of soda, but I could work. 

We went to Walmart.  I got pudding cups and tangerines.  They will retail for 60 cents each.  I got the gourmet vienna sausage.  They have sold very well at $1.  I also got some of the shelf stable dinners.  They will sell at $4.50, for the "premium" customer.  Ron's ordered sandwiches which will sell at $2.25.   We have a variety of bottled drinks.  I'm very pleased. 

I spent my own money, but the business will buy the rest of the inventory, assuming it's popular.  If not we will literally eat it.  I only sell quality items. 

We came home and I put everything away.  I noticed the same driver was sitting out front, and the neighbor was leaving.  Good, let him see *we need our driveway*.  I went out and she said they had given her our trip to work.  I brought out my bag of work stuff and put it up.  Then I got Ron. 

Ron always thanks me a lot, I'm so wonderful, etc.  I don't see the big deal.  I push him in the wheelchair, so what?  I always say you're welcome, I'm happy to do it, it's no big deal.  I'm just glad I can help him: he's so appreciative he makes it a good thing.  He has also been careful to keep from burning me out with a lot of little stuff.  He only "uses" me for the big stuff he really can't do. 

He likes to push the wheelchair around like a walker, hunched over.  He'll get to the kitchen, reach into the fridge, sit in the wheelchair while he waits for his food to heat, and then eat it in the wheelchair. 

Both he, and I, are profoundly glad he can take care of his personal matters.  His only gripe - I put the clean clothes over the back of his chair, on top of something he had planned to wear. 

He was very nice about it, too. 

Something horrid must be happening nearby.  I keep hearing news helicopters circling. 

So, we got to work.  One of the guys working for the other vendor asked me about the stockroom.  "It's big" I told him "But there's still a few questions about it".  I know God put that in my mouth. 

Ron decided to wait in the stockroom area while I did an inventory.  I walked down the main hallway.  One of the workers stopped me and admired my hair. 

"I love your wig" she said, with sincere admiration.  "Where did you get it?"  I laughed, pulled on my hair, and said it was mine, I'd done a henna.  "Whatever you did, I like it.  You look good!"  I said thank you and went on. 

Later on, I ran into a guy from maintenance.  "You look like the Wendy's lady" he told me.  I took it as a compliment and gave him a sweet thank you. 

Normally I don't get compliments.  I mean, if I put up a photo of my hair online everyone loves it - but in real life I don't.  I'm OK with that, I'm a simple person.  I dress simply, minimal fuss, etc.  As long as I am clean, good smelling, appropriately dressed, and presentable I'm happy. 

I did the inventory and went back to Ron.  Ron asked me to push him back to our area.  Sure.  I did.  He did what he wanted to do and rechecked my inventory. 

If I weren't medicated, I might be a lot more offended.  But I can be pretty dim at times.  I accept that and happily so does Ron.   He'd rather have me sweet, and a little dim, than a sharp person in all meanings.

After that, we met with the guy from the State.  He's working for us.  Yay!  I can honestly say I am happy to have him as Ron's advocate.  I think he will look out for Ron - and if you've ever been backstabbed or betrayed in some way, you know that's huge.   He's a good man. 

I always give him a hug.  And he takes it. 

We went to the warehouse.  I needed snacks, more than I could do in one trip.  They really like what I'm doing.  I'm trying to figure out how to introduce new items to my snack lineup while keeping the current customers happy. 

Or maybe the manager/district types would want a 2 ounce bag of flaming hot cheetos?  I'll have to see. 

I try to watch what people are eating, too.  I see tons of people bringing fruit from home.  That inspired the tangerines in the food machine. 

During all this, I drank buckets of water and took my urinary painkiller tablets (the ones that turn the urine orange).  If it's still an issue in a few days, of course I will see a doctor. 

My migraine came, and went, and came again.  I started getting kind of ugly thoughts about the neighbors again so I stopped taking the headache pills with caffeine.  They were putting me in a bad place, mentally.  I would rather suffer physical pain than get obsessed, paranoid, and delusional. 

And YES I know people don't talk about this - but there's some other poor SOB out there just like me thinking they're all alone in the world.  Yes, I have bad thoughts.  I fight them.  It's a battle, every day, for my mind. 

I have good meds on my team, but things like too much caffeine and a lack of sleep can f^ck me up. 

I gave myself a mental spanking and focused on matters at hand.  I've really wanted a takeout pizza for days. 

Really, really, wanted one.  But the last couple trips we barely had the time to get out product.  Today I got up to the front of the line with 5 minutes to spare. 

I have interacted with this lady for quite a while, so I decided to be honest.  "I would really love a whole pepperoni pizza to go.  Is there any way?"  Sure, she replied, and boxed one up, fresh out of the oven.  "Have a nice day!"

Wow.  This is one reason I think it's so important to be kind to service providers.  You really do reap what you sow. 

I know one Metrolift client, I've seen him at the warehouse.  He screamed, pitched a fit, and asked for a manager, then repeated the bad behavior.  Are they going to go out of the way for him next time?  No. 

Do I suck up?  No, but I say please, thank you, and have a nice day.  I mean it.  They know.  So when they can help me, they just might. 

I don't do it to get anything, but because I know how hard it is to be in a deli/foodservice type operation, on your feet all day, juggling a million balls, someone breathing down your neck, don't screw up and WHERE'S MY FOOD?    They sense that - empathy - that's the word I seek. 

I empathize. 

So do they, happily.  In fact, in the bathroom, the lady asked me how I was doing.  I told her, crazy at work, bladder infection, migraine, Ron sick, thank you so much.  She said you're welcome and meant it. 

Ron was delighted when I presented him with the boxed pizza, and a couple sealed cups of chopped onions (he likes to eat them with the pizza - I loathe onions).   It really made our day. 

It is so important to focus on the good in my life. 

Back to work, Ron balancing the pizza on top of a case of soda, sitting in his wheelchair.  We had a good ride to work.  I got the cart and loaded it.  Ron hung onto the cart like a tail and I dragged the whole works to our vending area for nearly the last time. 

I talked to the safety guy and mentioned I'd seen the "push, don't pull" poster.  If you pull things on a regular basis you will damage your rotator cuff.  He agreed. 

So, with Ron, and knowing a little anatomy, I bend my arm so my arm muscles take the strain.  They don't mind.  Vending is a wonderfully active job. 

After stocking, I took Ron over by our new area.  They have a window for people to look inside.  I rolled him up and he stuck his head inside, clicking his tongue.  He can echolocate, in fact, he participated in a study.  He can click his tongue, tap his cane, or clap his hands to "hear" the dimensions of an area.   He agreed - it's huge. 

Of course he got some looks while he did it, but he's blind. 

Now, we hear from the custodians they "need to wax after the area is released".  However, the emperor, so to speak, has decreed we move Monday, so we are proceeding accordingly. 

That's why I bought another 6-pack of Diet Mountain Dew!