White Girl Special

When I'm depressed, I worry about my tone in the blog. 

God knows I don't want to be that bitter, ugly, negative, person we all know.  Ugh.  Heaven forbid. 

I do want to recount my life accurately, though.  Therein lies the crux.  Apologies in advance if I get gloomy/bitter. 

Good news, I am getting used to the new glasses.  I still have a long way to go, though.  I have trouble adjusting to new glasses.  I know I see better.  I know they are beneficial - but times like this I can see why I, as a toddler, used to yank my glasses off and hide them.  It's almost easier to be lower vision.  My eyes hurt.  I get seasick.  I will continue to wear them and persevere.  It just takes a couple weeks for me to get used to new glasses. 

Ron had been doing pretty well, for him, in dealing with my depression.  He tends to react very badly when I'm hurt, depressed, or ill.  He gets vicious yelling at God and just puts out tons of negative energy.  I understand Ron has a personality disorder.  I understand he's not going to rush to empathy when I'm wounded. 

It sucks, it hurts.  It makes me feel cheated. 

A good example, my current lower size pants are getting baggy.  I can take them off without unfastening.  My weight is still the same so I assume I'm converting fat to muscle.  I had been working today for several hours straight.  I found my bag of beef jerky.  I sat down and had a snack (I had done the urgent items and only needed to do one, lower priority task before leaving in an hour).  I offered Ron a piece of beef jerky. 

I think we can agree beef jerky is "better" than most vending machine snack foods.  Ron started a tirade - in front of the customers - about my "food addiction" calling me an addict and telling me to "stop eating all the time".  I think one piece of beef jerky in 6 hours is pretty reasonable!   I'm getting smaller!  I imagine, no, I am certain, he would still act this way if I weighed 120 pounds. 

Just once, I'd like someone to tell him to shut up and leave me alone. 

If I object, then it feeds him and he escalates.  The best way to disarm him is indifference.  I put a lot of walls up. 

I will remember not to offer him food, though. 

His foot is getting better, he had that horrible open blister.  Yesterday I gave him (and he took!) some vitamins- A and C, a couple capsules of Olive Leaf.  You can look up olive leaf on your own if you're interested.  Anyway, this morning his foot did look to be healing. 

It's just hard to deal with him when he's got this depressed, "What does it matter anyway" bitter attitude. 

If I could do 3 things for our marriage, I'd: 1. Make Ron's relationship with God a huge priority.  2.  Stop the drinking and addictive behaviors  3.  Get him on medication for depression. 

I can't do it myself but I can sure pray for God to move on him. 

So, yesterday, started out very well.  We went to Walmart.  I was pretty depressed.  I hardly got anything. 

I knew I needed Cup A Noodles but I was too weary to go offload them from the shelf, try to find a box, and put them in the cart, getting the various flavors my customers enjoy.  I told God I was sorry I couldn't do it, as I passed the aisle, only to encounter a display of trayed, in-box, product! 

I got 3 trays and put them in the cart.  36 ought to hold me for a bit.  Most importantly, I got the Hot & Spicy Chicken, and Hot & Spicy Shrimp.  You can only get them from my machines.  The other vendor just sells the plain chicken only.  I also got some tamer stuff. 

I want to motivate people to use our machines.  Thank God He made that happen when I couldn't. 

I checked out and we went home.  I thought it was funny, half the cart was work stuff.  The business paid me back. 

At this level of depression, I can't really do my God Time in the morning.  I've been doing it in the afternoon - most importantly I'm doing it - before I use the computer. The only problem, Ron assumes I am free in the afternoon and tends to pester me, then complain and deride my faith. 

One reason, I realized, I like to do my God Time in the morning when he's asleep.  Sounds like I'm "cheating" doesn't it?  Having my assignation when my husband's asleep so I won't get "caught"? 

So.  We had another trip (Ron had been very nice making the arrangements for our rides).  Dollar Tree.  I hadn't been in a while.  Sure enough, I was caught loading window clings (for vending machines) into the shopping cart.  More work stuff. 

I desperately wanted to buy a rubber rat and hide it in a vending machine, but Ron forbade it.  Darn.  I bet I could have gotten away with it in the old days. 

I got some pumpkin and scarecrow clings.  They're cute.  The customers love it when I decorate the machines.

I don't do anything at home, but you should see my Christmas display at work! 

I got Ron a few snack foods, some first aid stuff for the house, and about that time our friend showed up. 

He has participated in our ongoing search for good barbeque in Houston.  You'd think it would be easy.  It's not.  We haven't walked away happy ever since Sam's (Antoine and Veteran's) closed.

Ron desperately wanted to try a place on Homestead. 

I always get the chopped beef.  Sam's had huge and tender morsels of well smoked meat swimming in a rich and beautiful bbq sauce.  Most places I've encountered sell the "White Girl Special" - a horrible casserole of chopped fat, minced gristle, a few flecks of insipid meat, all swimming in a neauseating sea of red-colored grease. 

The last time I ate one, I spent all night on the toilet.  I took a few bites of my sandwich and realized I'd gotten the White Girl Special.  I put it down. 

"Full already?" Our friend asked, his mouth full.  I nodded. 

Sick, rather, but I do try not to be negative.   I brought it home.  Ron tried it today and proclaimed it "Awful". 

The guys finished their food.  Ron said it was OK but he wouldn't go back.  I told him about my "special". 

We lamented the closure of Sam's, yet again.  I wish we could find Charlie.  He smoked the meats. 

We came home, I took a nap.  Later on I filed the online accounting report. 

I find it funny, lately.  Ron expects me to fix everything.  The printer wasn't printing properly.  I did what I could for that.  Today, the water bowl (an automatic water fountain) wasn't flowing right.  I disassembled it, cleaned it, and cleaned the impeller. 

I am an engineer's daughter. 

I just hate how he gets when he's drinking.  He's bitter.  Entitled.  Selfish.  Petty.  Obnoxious. 

I absolutely see God working in him.  I just get impatient. 

One of my most fervent prayers: don't let me infected by Ron's bitterness and negative attitudes.