Migraine today.
Started my cycle too.
Not fun.
Overslept, barely had time to shower.
Had to work.
Went to Walmart after, then home. I got a nap.
Did about 100 bags of Halloween candy, waiting up a bit to see how many more I get.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Thursday, October 30, 2014
Shockingly depressed again today
"You know" I told Ron "If I could take something to get rid of the depression for a while, I just might. I can see why so many of us (mentally ill) become addicted."
Ron didn't quite know what to say, except to remind me God is coming back soon and "It (mental illness) will all be over then."
I think I would get into big problems with pain pills - because, the brief time I did take them (prior to ovarian surgery), they took away mental pain as well, and stimulants, because I'm always so damn tired.
Horrid depression today, I didn't even shower. It didn't matter since I slept late (8:50 by my clock!), watched Supernatural reruns (I always seem to miss the end of this season when they kill Leviathan), and cleaned the house.
1. I had to mop up Ron's blood. It would have made a great Halloween decoration. I looked at his head, he has a little goose egg and maybe a half inch laceration. You wouldn't think it would have bled so much, but boy did it. I'm on my third try pretreating and washing his t-shirt. I love him in that shirt, so I do want to save it. I'm not worried about getting it on my skin, we're married. God knows the blood center tested him for everything back when he was donating.
2. I had to rearrange the front room, shift the bear over by the front door, move the Bibles to the computer room - I have plenty, because I got a delivery today. Clean the floor, rearrange some storage containers, add some things to the storage, etc. Sadly, Supernatural was over by then so I had to settle for Judge Judy and Divorce Court.
Watching the divorce shows, I'm so glad I am married to Ron. He accepts my abysmal housekeeping and never expects me to make him dinner. He's thrilled if I give him a TV dinner he heated up in the microwave, and throw out the tray after he's done eating. He also feeds the cats and does some of the litter box duties. He's thrilled when I present him with clean clothes (about the only thing I can manage, some days). He knows I do as much as I can.
I tried to take a nap a few times, but I couldn't.
Torbie got into the Snickers box and slept on the last candy bar, mushing it out of shape. Her body weight, and heat, melted and reformed it. It's still in the wrapper.
She also got on my chest for a while today, which was very nice, if highly allergenic. I don't care, she's my girl and I love her. She's a nice, fat, old kitty - just what I needed.
Torbie is pretty much exactly what you'd expect from my first meeting, a very cuddly, sweet, cat. Baby Girl is a very strong pursonality, often hunting lizards in our back yard, but very sweet and loving in her own ways. Bubba's love language brought me rats - I don't miss that, but I do miss how he'd sleep with me every night (he wasn't hunting). Frosty did that, too.
Maybe that's an old male cat thing - or maybe Torbie isn't that old yet. I don't know. She will get cuddlier as the weather chills because my bed's under the only "good" heating vent in the house. The rest of the house heats fine, but my room has the best heat.
I also have the ultimate lure: the heated mattress pad. She adored it last year.
At least our yard looks good. Ron and I found a good yard guy who will come out once a month. I think that will work fine for us.
God knows I don't have the energy to mow these days, much less weed-whack and all the rest.
Ron didn't quite know what to say, except to remind me God is coming back soon and "It (mental illness) will all be over then."
I think I would get into big problems with pain pills - because, the brief time I did take them (prior to ovarian surgery), they took away mental pain as well, and stimulants, because I'm always so damn tired.
Horrid depression today, I didn't even shower. It didn't matter since I slept late (8:50 by my clock!), watched Supernatural reruns (I always seem to miss the end of this season when they kill Leviathan), and cleaned the house.
1. I had to mop up Ron's blood. It would have made a great Halloween decoration. I looked at his head, he has a little goose egg and maybe a half inch laceration. You wouldn't think it would have bled so much, but boy did it. I'm on my third try pretreating and washing his t-shirt. I love him in that shirt, so I do want to save it. I'm not worried about getting it on my skin, we're married. God knows the blood center tested him for everything back when he was donating.
2. I had to rearrange the front room, shift the bear over by the front door, move the Bibles to the computer room - I have plenty, because I got a delivery today. Clean the floor, rearrange some storage containers, add some things to the storage, etc. Sadly, Supernatural was over by then so I had to settle for Judge Judy and Divorce Court.
Watching the divorce shows, I'm so glad I am married to Ron. He accepts my abysmal housekeeping and never expects me to make him dinner. He's thrilled if I give him a TV dinner he heated up in the microwave, and throw out the tray after he's done eating. He also feeds the cats and does some of the litter box duties. He's thrilled when I present him with clean clothes (about the only thing I can manage, some days). He knows I do as much as I can.
I tried to take a nap a few times, but I couldn't.
Torbie got into the Snickers box and slept on the last candy bar, mushing it out of shape. Her body weight, and heat, melted and reformed it. It's still in the wrapper.
She also got on my chest for a while today, which was very nice, if highly allergenic. I don't care, she's my girl and I love her. She's a nice, fat, old kitty - just what I needed.
Torbie is pretty much exactly what you'd expect from my first meeting, a very cuddly, sweet, cat. Baby Girl is a very strong pursonality, often hunting lizards in our back yard, but very sweet and loving in her own ways. Bubba's love language brought me rats - I don't miss that, but I do miss how he'd sleep with me every night (he wasn't hunting). Frosty did that, too.
Maybe that's an old male cat thing - or maybe Torbie isn't that old yet. I don't know. She will get cuddlier as the weather chills because my bed's under the only "good" heating vent in the house. The rest of the house heats fine, but my room has the best heat.
I also have the ultimate lure: the heated mattress pad. She adored it last year.
At least our yard looks good. Ron and I found a good yard guy who will come out once a month. I think that will work fine for us.
God knows I don't have the energy to mow these days, much less weed-whack and all the rest.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Approach
I get various reactions when I share my problems - ie - Ron's drinking, blackouts, and verbal abuse.
Close family are sympathetic, and one offered to send Ron to rehab. They're praying for him.
Blog readers tend to get livid. One gives me dire warnings about Ron's short life expectancy. Thanks, I know that.
One day I had to go to work on my own, paying with my own money for a taxi. I paid myself back at work but I was pretty irate that Ron was sleeping while I busted my tail after no sleep.
So, when one of the customers asked me about Ron, I told the truth "He's still drunk". The guys (a couple of them) thought that was "so cool" and applauded.
Yeaaagh.
I knew one guy was pretty judgemental, but he and I were online friends. I sent him to a good church. Imagine my shock when he showed up at the house one day saying I had to "stop exposing" Ron online, and Ron had to stop verbally abusing me because it was making me depressed.
I left that encounter very frustrated. For one, I get depressed on some very happy occasions. I get depressed on vacation. I got depressed on my wedding day (and I was very happy about it). I get depressed on payday, and I even get to keep most of my pay. I just get depressed - it's part of my illness.
I don't believe Ron "makes" me more depressed. I believe the sleep deprivation can aggravate my illness, and amplify my current mood, whatever it is at the time. Currently I'm in a rare "baseline" normal mood.
Yes, verbal abuse needs to stop, absolutely. When sober, Ron is fairly decent in that regard.
Ron needs to stop all alcohol consumption, absolutely. However, the way to do that is approaching Ron logically - asking him to weigh the benefits of alcohol versus the liabilities. Coming at him with an attitude of critical judgement will just get his dander up and he'll probably tell you to f- off.
Today I approached the issue pretty logically. I told him there is blood all over the house, other messes that need cleaning, and the kitchen floor is sticky with what I believe to be a mixture of vodka and blood. I asked him if last night was "worth it", especially since he didn't remember anything. Was it worth upsetting me and depriving us of our sleep? No. Almost getting in Big Trouble with our primary soda vendor? No, of course not.
So, I continued, maybe it wasn't worth it. Ron agreed.
Maybe it's just 22 years of marriage. I do know how to approach Ron on important subjects.
After I got mugged I left him a lighthearted message on his voicemail (he was sleeping it off, yet again), saying "Hey, I got mugged - well, he tried, but I kicked his ass! Call me!"
Close family are sympathetic, and one offered to send Ron to rehab. They're praying for him.
Blog readers tend to get livid. One gives me dire warnings about Ron's short life expectancy. Thanks, I know that.
One day I had to go to work on my own, paying with my own money for a taxi. I paid myself back at work but I was pretty irate that Ron was sleeping while I busted my tail after no sleep.
So, when one of the customers asked me about Ron, I told the truth "He's still drunk". The guys (a couple of them) thought that was "so cool" and applauded.
Yeaaagh.
I knew one guy was pretty judgemental, but he and I were online friends. I sent him to a good church. Imagine my shock when he showed up at the house one day saying I had to "stop exposing" Ron online, and Ron had to stop verbally abusing me because it was making me depressed.
I left that encounter very frustrated. For one, I get depressed on some very happy occasions. I get depressed on vacation. I got depressed on my wedding day (and I was very happy about it). I get depressed on payday, and I even get to keep most of my pay. I just get depressed - it's part of my illness.
I don't believe Ron "makes" me more depressed. I believe the sleep deprivation can aggravate my illness, and amplify my current mood, whatever it is at the time. Currently I'm in a rare "baseline" normal mood.
Yes, verbal abuse needs to stop, absolutely. When sober, Ron is fairly decent in that regard.
Ron needs to stop all alcohol consumption, absolutely. However, the way to do that is approaching Ron logically - asking him to weigh the benefits of alcohol versus the liabilities. Coming at him with an attitude of critical judgement will just get his dander up and he'll probably tell you to f- off.
Today I approached the issue pretty logically. I told him there is blood all over the house, other messes that need cleaning, and the kitchen floor is sticky with what I believe to be a mixture of vodka and blood. I asked him if last night was "worth it", especially since he didn't remember anything. Was it worth upsetting me and depriving us of our sleep? No. Almost getting in Big Trouble with our primary soda vendor? No, of course not.
So, I continued, maybe it wasn't worth it. Ron agreed.
Maybe it's just 22 years of marriage. I do know how to approach Ron on important subjects.
After I got mugged I left him a lighthearted message on his voicemail (he was sleeping it off, yet again), saying "Hey, I got mugged - well, he tried, but I kicked his ass! Call me!"
Two sips
"I only had two sips of vodka!" Ron wailed "What happened?"
I told him what happened, a night of sleep deprivation, hours of verbal abuse, and discovering a bloodied Ron (he fell out of his wheelchair and hit above an eyebrow) on the kitchen floor. I didn't shriek at him, it was more a weary retelling instead. If I get all pity party then Ron gets defensive.
Have you ever tried to wake up someone having a blackout so you can go to work?
Have you ever had to convince the disabled blind man that the "broken wheelchair" is, in fact, a furniture chair? I finally pushed the wheelchair up to the chair and said "Try this one instead" - leaving him alone, and he did.
Have you ever had to change someone out of a filthy and bloody t-shirt? I had help for that one, thank God. Not to mention cleaning the blood off his face.
It was an awful night, a worse morning, and a long day. I also discovered, to my regret, a breakfast burrito does not get along with a handful of mood stabilizers and two antidepressants. I was horribly queasy all day.
I was at the end of my rope when I picked up my first devotional. "Don't be afraid to ask for help from other Christians". That's incredibly appropriate.
I made some calls - just sharing the awfulness, and my frustration, especially as we had to get to work for a delivery. The other vendor's wife, in fact, called while Ron was screaming verbal abuse. She "got it".
My pride crawled off under the couch to die, a while back. That didn't faze me. Yeah, embarrassing, but they know Ron has "problems". I was more worried about getting to work as I heard our guy had left the pallet out by the stockroom door.
Ron finally perked up enough to realize we had to get to work, so he called paratransit and arranged a ride. The driver showed up and helped me clean Ron up and change his shirt, before we got Ron loaded.
Ron was incredibly unsteady today. I think, for him, his body is taking longer to metabolize alcohol - either that or he really drank that much. I did find him in the kitchen, where he keeps the hard stuff.
We got to work, Ron reasonably presentable. We stocked. The deliveryman came back and I paid him. I told him the truth, and he said "Give Ron a Monster (energy drink)." I would have if he would have taken it!
I put away the pallet of soda, and Ron did canned sodas. I did snack, bottled soda, and food. The coffee machine seemed to be fine. I just realized I did forget to check the K-cups, but we'll be back.
A friend picked us up. Ron had asked him to take us out to lunch, without consulting me. I was still horribly queasy. I just had a piece of cheesecake (not even the whole thing) as the guys ate BBQ. Then we ran by Walmart and I bought some rodent killers.
We came home around 2 and I managed to get a 2-hour nap. I'm exhausted and weary. Weary of the drama.
Ron, for now, is swearing he'll break up with vodka. Sadly, I have heard that before.
I told him what happened, a night of sleep deprivation, hours of verbal abuse, and discovering a bloodied Ron (he fell out of his wheelchair and hit above an eyebrow) on the kitchen floor. I didn't shriek at him, it was more a weary retelling instead. If I get all pity party then Ron gets defensive.
Have you ever tried to wake up someone having a blackout so you can go to work?
Have you ever had to convince the disabled blind man that the "broken wheelchair" is, in fact, a furniture chair? I finally pushed the wheelchair up to the chair and said "Try this one instead" - leaving him alone, and he did.
Have you ever had to change someone out of a filthy and bloody t-shirt? I had help for that one, thank God. Not to mention cleaning the blood off his face.
It was an awful night, a worse morning, and a long day. I also discovered, to my regret, a breakfast burrito does not get along with a handful of mood stabilizers and two antidepressants. I was horribly queasy all day.
I was at the end of my rope when I picked up my first devotional. "Don't be afraid to ask for help from other Christians". That's incredibly appropriate.
I made some calls - just sharing the awfulness, and my frustration, especially as we had to get to work for a delivery. The other vendor's wife, in fact, called while Ron was screaming verbal abuse. She "got it".
My pride crawled off under the couch to die, a while back. That didn't faze me. Yeah, embarrassing, but they know Ron has "problems". I was more worried about getting to work as I heard our guy had left the pallet out by the stockroom door.
Ron finally perked up enough to realize we had to get to work, so he called paratransit and arranged a ride. The driver showed up and helped me clean Ron up and change his shirt, before we got Ron loaded.
Ron was incredibly unsteady today. I think, for him, his body is taking longer to metabolize alcohol - either that or he really drank that much. I did find him in the kitchen, where he keeps the hard stuff.
We got to work, Ron reasonably presentable. We stocked. The deliveryman came back and I paid him. I told him the truth, and he said "Give Ron a Monster (energy drink)." I would have if he would have taken it!
I put away the pallet of soda, and Ron did canned sodas. I did snack, bottled soda, and food. The coffee machine seemed to be fine. I just realized I did forget to check the K-cups, but we'll be back.
A friend picked us up. Ron had asked him to take us out to lunch, without consulting me. I was still horribly queasy. I just had a piece of cheesecake (not even the whole thing) as the guys ate BBQ. Then we ran by Walmart and I bought some rodent killers.
We came home around 2 and I managed to get a 2-hour nap. I'm exhausted and weary. Weary of the drama.
Ron, for now, is swearing he'll break up with vodka. Sadly, I have heard that before.
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
I'm boring these days.
My current popular post is me, cleaning a toilet. I narrate it in great detail. It's getting lots of hits.
Hits are down, I think it's because I'm well medicated, groggy, and depressed. Now if I were manic and raving, I'd get a ton of hits.
I remember one post got tremendous activity. A supermorbidly obese woman in an electric scooter broke the wheelchair lift on the van, had a tantrum, blamed the transit company, and then tried to trip Ron when we got off the vehicle. I was most angry about the last, of course.
Anyway it was controversial (I think because I made a comment about Medicaid paying for lap bands - which I have seen work).
Lately, I've just been "raving" about wanting my sleep. Not as exciting.
My new microphone came in. Better audio but you'll still have to turn it up.
Hits are down, I think it's because I'm well medicated, groggy, and depressed. Now if I were manic and raving, I'd get a ton of hits.
I remember one post got tremendous activity. A supermorbidly obese woman in an electric scooter broke the wheelchair lift on the van, had a tantrum, blamed the transit company, and then tried to trip Ron when we got off the vehicle. I was most angry about the last, of course.
Anyway it was controversial (I think because I made a comment about Medicaid paying for lap bands - which I have seen work).
Lately, I've just been "raving" about wanting my sleep. Not as exciting.
My new microphone came in. Better audio but you'll still have to turn it up.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Please God let it all be over for a few days
You're going to need a timeline:
Saturday, Sam Houston Racepark ("the horses" as they say in Houston) begins a 2-day festival. "Something Wicked". It involves club mix music, a DJ, lots of alcohol. It's called a rave. It is so loud Saturday night I can hear the music in my bedroom, three and a half miles away, with a fan and a noise machine running simultaneously.
Ron and I go hunting for the music. It appears to be coming from the Fed Ex, half a mile away. I shake my fist at the Fed Ex and say some VERY rude things. I demand Ron "stop it" because he's the man and it's his job to fix these things.
[snicker] Poor Ron. I was a little cranky.
Ron calls the county police (we live in the county). They tell him it's the Racetrack. Sorry, it will be over in about an hour.
NOT HAPPY, we go home and endure the music. Ron had already cancelled church because the trips would have been hideous.
Now, of course, we can't attend because it's after midnight. I write a scathing letter to the county commissioner.
Sunday I sleep in as late as possible, after 10. I have a very early wakeup on Monday and I have discovered the stupid rave thing runs another night.
Sure enough, after falling asleep for an hour or so, the loud bass wakes me up again and I end up lying in bed doing intercessory prayer for everyone, especially all those involved with the rave.
Hating just messes up my immune system, and I want to be better than that. I did my best until they finally shut it down at midnight.
Great. Now I have an hour and a half to sleep before I have to get up for work.
Monday: I wake up at 2 AM, hit the snooze button a few times, get up, take my shower. I remind God I will see Him later when I am more fresh and alert. I gulp my last Diet Mountain Dew. Our ride arrives on time.
We have to get two deliveries. One's sandwiches, and one's our soda delivery. I remind Ron they do bring it to our door, which is great.
The other vendor wanted a cup of coffee, so I attempted to make him one, only to realize the coffee machine grinder was not working. I prayed about it, figured it out, got it going again, thank you Jesus.
I stocked food and sandwiches while Ron did sodas. We waited. And waited some more.
And Dr Pepper finally admitted they wouldn't be making the delivery today. Great. We could have slept in, because the stupid....
Deep breath. That's about when I began to giggle and just treat it as a joke. I mean, when things get that awful, I just have to laugh at it.
I got up at 2 AM, after 2 hour's sleep, for nothing. I have to laugh at that.
I don't want to walk around complaining and whining like Ron. I love him dearly, but I do hate that about him. I feel like, when we're in public, I'm always telling him to knock it off.
"I signed up for this" I'll say "But the driver didn't. Have mercy on them, their job's hard enough." Ron will laugh and stop.
I don't want to be that person, because we all know one. We all avoid that person. I want to be liked, I admit it. I want people to see me as a positive overcomer.
So I went home with Ron.
I did put my foot down about Tuesday. "I need tomorrow off." Ron agreed, said it wasn't even a question.
I couldn't wait to go home and crawl into bed... but the yard guy was there. He worked for about an hour, we paid him. and he went on his way. The yard looks great. No one can complain about it, front or back. He'll be back, thank God.
Now I could take a nap. Surprisingly, I only slept 2 hours.
I got up, did my God Time, Ron went to the liquor store (I was tempted to ask him to pick me up some cherry brandy, the few times I did drink I loved the stuff, but I'm not going that route and it would interact even if I did), came home.
Ron called the homeowner's assocation, who liked his idea about writing letters to some politicians. They're on that. Good to know they do earn their money without crawling up our butts.
Oh, thank God that's all over.
Saturday, Sam Houston Racepark ("the horses" as they say in Houston) begins a 2-day festival. "Something Wicked". It involves club mix music, a DJ, lots of alcohol. It's called a rave. It is so loud Saturday night I can hear the music in my bedroom, three and a half miles away, with a fan and a noise machine running simultaneously.
Ron and I go hunting for the music. It appears to be coming from the Fed Ex, half a mile away. I shake my fist at the Fed Ex and say some VERY rude things. I demand Ron "stop it" because he's the man and it's his job to fix these things.
[snicker] Poor Ron. I was a little cranky.
Ron calls the county police (we live in the county). They tell him it's the Racetrack. Sorry, it will be over in about an hour.
NOT HAPPY, we go home and endure the music. Ron had already cancelled church because the trips would have been hideous.
Now, of course, we can't attend because it's after midnight. I write a scathing letter to the county commissioner.
Sunday I sleep in as late as possible, after 10. I have a very early wakeup on Monday and I have discovered the stupid rave thing runs another night.
Sure enough, after falling asleep for an hour or so, the loud bass wakes me up again and I end up lying in bed doing intercessory prayer for everyone, especially all those involved with the rave.
Hating just messes up my immune system, and I want to be better than that. I did my best until they finally shut it down at midnight.
Great. Now I have an hour and a half to sleep before I have to get up for work.
Monday: I wake up at 2 AM, hit the snooze button a few times, get up, take my shower. I remind God I will see Him later when I am more fresh and alert. I gulp my last Diet Mountain Dew. Our ride arrives on time.
We have to get two deliveries. One's sandwiches, and one's our soda delivery. I remind Ron they do bring it to our door, which is great.
The other vendor wanted a cup of coffee, so I attempted to make him one, only to realize the coffee machine grinder was not working. I prayed about it, figured it out, got it going again, thank you Jesus.
I stocked food and sandwiches while Ron did sodas. We waited. And waited some more.
And Dr Pepper finally admitted they wouldn't be making the delivery today. Great. We could have slept in, because the stupid....
Deep breath. That's about when I began to giggle and just treat it as a joke. I mean, when things get that awful, I just have to laugh at it.
I got up at 2 AM, after 2 hour's sleep, for nothing. I have to laugh at that.
I don't want to walk around complaining and whining like Ron. I love him dearly, but I do hate that about him. I feel like, when we're in public, I'm always telling him to knock it off.
"I signed up for this" I'll say "But the driver didn't. Have mercy on them, their job's hard enough." Ron will laugh and stop.
I don't want to be that person, because we all know one. We all avoid that person. I want to be liked, I admit it. I want people to see me as a positive overcomer.
So I went home with Ron.
I did put my foot down about Tuesday. "I need tomorrow off." Ron agreed, said it wasn't even a question.
I couldn't wait to go home and crawl into bed... but the yard guy was there. He worked for about an hour, we paid him. and he went on his way. The yard looks great. No one can complain about it, front or back. He'll be back, thank God.
Now I could take a nap. Surprisingly, I only slept 2 hours.
I got up, did my God Time, Ron went to the liquor store (I was tempted to ask him to pick me up some cherry brandy, the few times I did drink I loved the stuff, but I'm not going that route and it would interact even if I did), came home.
Ron called the homeowner's assocation, who liked his idea about writing letters to some politicians. They're on that. Good to know they do earn their money without crawling up our butts.
Oh, thank God that's all over.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
"I knew it had to be you!"
I think the letter explains the whole thing quite nicely:
Dear Mr (County Commissioner),
Normally I always vote for the incumbent. Up until tonight, I would have said you were doing a very good job.
I have severe disabilities, yet I still work, getting up at 4 am most days to run my own business. My husband has even more physical problems. He works with me.
I'll reiterate. We get up at 4 AM most days. Being self employed, we have to work weekends, especially during the busy holiday season.
I'm sure you're wondering what this has to do with you.
I found out YOU approved the music festival tonight, the one that is keeping me up - I got up at 4 AM today. I have severe mental illness and brain damage - and I cannot sleep because YOUR festival has loud bass notes all over my home. In my bed, with the noisemaker on. In the front room, and in my computer room.
I live THREE AND A HALF MILES from the race park, sir! I can only imagine the poor folk near the race track.
I bought my house because it was quiet. You, Mr Commissioner, have ruined my peace and quiet tonight. Your festival is keeping me awake. I am coming up on 20 hours awake with mental illness, I have to work tomorrow, and I am very very unhappy.
As I said, I had planned to vote for you, you may not be up for election this time but you will be up for election, and I will NOT be voting for you.
I don't know why you thought it was a good idea to approve an extremely loud festival - one that can be heard three and a half miles away from the epicenter. Thousands of people are being kept awake tonight, because you made this decision.
As a former judge, you may know how hard it is for those with bipolar disorder to manage their illness. Thanks to your decision, I will probably have a horrendous week.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not allow, or permit, any more "music festivals".
I need my sleep, and I pay taxes too. We just sent over a thousand dollars to the State Comptroller.
Sincerely,
Heather Lastname
Registered Voter
Conservative Independent
Here's the fun part: it didn't end until midnight.
We had planned to go to church, but didn't.
I slept in as late as possible because I have to get up at 2 AM today. I woke up rapid cycling (up and down very fast but not together).
I also shifted the dosing on my mood stabilizers and that helped.
I got up at 10:30, took my shower, did my God Time. Rather frustrated at being kept up late three weekends in a row.
I did some chores and we went to work at 1. Well, we went outside to wait on work at 1. They didn't come until almost 2.
We had made an appointment with a customer, to pay a refund. She works the night shift.
She had lost $5, that's a big deal when you're on a tight budget.
So, we pulled up and a car drove over to us. It was our customer "I saw the Metrolift and knew it had to be you!" She was right.
I teased the driver about taking us home, now. She didn't.
We went in and worked for half an hour. I did pastries and Ron stocked some soda. We left and had a good ride home.
I was hungry, so I ate the last of the pizza and took my antipsychotic. It generally makes me sleep if I lay down. I got a couple extra hours of sleep.
I never sleep well on delivery eve, and I just wanted to make sure I had enough charge in my battery. I woke up when the neighbors came home.
I'll go back to bed in about 15 minutes.
Dear Mr (County Commissioner),
Normally I always vote for the incumbent. Up until tonight, I would have said you were doing a very good job.
I have severe disabilities, yet I still work, getting up at 4 am most days to run my own business. My husband has even more physical problems. He works with me.
I'll reiterate. We get up at 4 AM most days. Being self employed, we have to work weekends, especially during the busy holiday season.
I'm sure you're wondering what this has to do with you.
I found out YOU approved the music festival tonight, the one that is keeping me up - I got up at 4 AM today. I have severe mental illness and brain damage - and I cannot sleep because YOUR festival has loud bass notes all over my home. In my bed, with the noisemaker on. In the front room, and in my computer room.
I live THREE AND A HALF MILES from the race park, sir! I can only imagine the poor folk near the race track.
I bought my house because it was quiet. You, Mr Commissioner, have ruined my peace and quiet tonight. Your festival is keeping me awake. I am coming up on 20 hours awake with mental illness, I have to work tomorrow, and I am very very unhappy.
As I said, I had planned to vote for you, you may not be up for election this time but you will be up for election, and I will NOT be voting for you.
I don't know why you thought it was a good idea to approve an extremely loud festival - one that can be heard three and a half miles away from the epicenter. Thousands of people are being kept awake tonight, because you made this decision.
As a former judge, you may know how hard it is for those with bipolar disorder to manage their illness. Thanks to your decision, I will probably have a horrendous week.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do not allow, or permit, any more "music festivals".
I need my sleep, and I pay taxes too. We just sent over a thousand dollars to the State Comptroller.
Sincerely,
Heather Lastname
Registered Voter
Conservative Independent
Here's the fun part: it didn't end until midnight.
We had planned to go to church, but didn't.
I slept in as late as possible because I have to get up at 2 AM today. I woke up rapid cycling (up and down very fast but not together).
I also shifted the dosing on my mood stabilizers and that helped.
I got up at 10:30, took my shower, did my God Time. Rather frustrated at being kept up late three weekends in a row.
I did some chores and we went to work at 1. Well, we went outside to wait on work at 1. They didn't come until almost 2.
We had made an appointment with a customer, to pay a refund. She works the night shift.
She had lost $5, that's a big deal when you're on a tight budget.
So, we pulled up and a car drove over to us. It was our customer "I saw the Metrolift and knew it had to be you!" She was right.
I teased the driver about taking us home, now. She didn't.
We went in and worked for half an hour. I did pastries and Ron stocked some soda. We left and had a good ride home.
I was hungry, so I ate the last of the pizza and took my antipsychotic. It generally makes me sleep if I lay down. I got a couple extra hours of sleep.
I never sleep well on delivery eve, and I just wanted to make sure I had enough charge in my battery. I woke up when the neighbors came home.
I'll go back to bed in about 15 minutes.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Saturday
Readership is dropping, but since I'm noncommercial it doesn't matter.
Woke up, depressed. Did my shower, God Time later. We went to the warehouse.
I got a cartload of drinks, and a few snacks. Snacks have been pretty slow lately. I had to stock some snickers today but that was about it.
Everything just felt so hard. That's the thing I hate most about walking around depressed.
But, God forbid, if I had accepted disability (payments), I wouldn't "have" to work. I'd be a wreck. I doubt I would shower for days.
I chose not to file for disability when I was diagnosed with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and 15 years later when I was diagnosed bipolar. One, Ron supports me. I've always felt those in true need should take disability payments - those completely unable to support themselves, in danger of becoming homeless. That's my perspective. I'm not going to tell you what to do even if I had the right. Two, there's only so much money in the system, so I want to "give" it to those truly in need.
So, for me, a "stay at home" check would be the worst thing ever. Working sucks when I'm depressed, because everything is just so mentally hard. But I need to have work - something to force me out of bed, to get me in the shower, and moving.
I had no problem unloading the truck, physically. It was just the thought of doing it. Then the thought of hours of work after that... made me want to hide under my bed.
I guess that's a "normal" thing too.
I got it all done, though. Since snacks looked OK I mainly focused on the food machines, and helping Ron. They really love my K-cup kits - a cream and sugar packet, in a cup, with a K-cup for use in the brewer. It's a lot better tasting and more reliable than the coffee vending machine.
However, it's a lot of work making up those cups so I did that for a bit. I also organized the stockroom. I have a very early morning delivery on Monday morning. I want to make that as simple as possible.
I did what I could.
We had a great ride home. I hardly sat down in my folding chair (no bus stop at work yet), when the ride arrived. No drama, just a very nice young man.
I even managed a nap. The dog behind us was barking a fair amount but I did get some rest. They put it up at night, so props on that.
After I got up I did my God Time. The party machine at #19 started up, but turned it off after Ron called the police.
Thank God they did turn it off. And the police, for coming out.
Then I did up some Halloween candy, basically a full sized Snickers, a couple mini chocolate bars, some hard candy, gum, taffy, and assorted hard candy.
I did 48, of 150. I plan to do a third a day.
Torbie's been cute and adorable. She's curled up on my desk right in front of my monitor right now.
Woke up, depressed. Did my shower, God Time later. We went to the warehouse.
I got a cartload of drinks, and a few snacks. Snacks have been pretty slow lately. I had to stock some snickers today but that was about it.
Everything just felt so hard. That's the thing I hate most about walking around depressed.
But, God forbid, if I had accepted disability (payments), I wouldn't "have" to work. I'd be a wreck. I doubt I would shower for days.
I chose not to file for disability when I was diagnosed with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, and 15 years later when I was diagnosed bipolar. One, Ron supports me. I've always felt those in true need should take disability payments - those completely unable to support themselves, in danger of becoming homeless. That's my perspective. I'm not going to tell you what to do even if I had the right. Two, there's only so much money in the system, so I want to "give" it to those truly in need.
So, for me, a "stay at home" check would be the worst thing ever. Working sucks when I'm depressed, because everything is just so mentally hard. But I need to have work - something to force me out of bed, to get me in the shower, and moving.
I had no problem unloading the truck, physically. It was just the thought of doing it. Then the thought of hours of work after that... made me want to hide under my bed.
I guess that's a "normal" thing too.
I got it all done, though. Since snacks looked OK I mainly focused on the food machines, and helping Ron. They really love my K-cup kits - a cream and sugar packet, in a cup, with a K-cup for use in the brewer. It's a lot better tasting and more reliable than the coffee vending machine.
However, it's a lot of work making up those cups so I did that for a bit. I also organized the stockroom. I have a very early morning delivery on Monday morning. I want to make that as simple as possible.
I did what I could.
We had a great ride home. I hardly sat down in my folding chair (no bus stop at work yet), when the ride arrived. No drama, just a very nice young man.
I even managed a nap. The dog behind us was barking a fair amount but I did get some rest. They put it up at night, so props on that.
After I got up I did my God Time. The party machine at #19 started up, but turned it off after Ron called the police.
Thank God they did turn it off. And the police, for coming out.
Then I did up some Halloween candy, basically a full sized Snickers, a couple mini chocolate bars, some hard candy, gum, taffy, and assorted hard candy.
Torbie's been cute and adorable. She's curled up on my desk right in front of my monitor right now.
Friday, October 24, 2014
End of depression
I feel like I've been stuck in unending depression for a while.
I know that's not true, I've gotten manic, a day last week, a few days a few weeks before that... but depression kind of eats it all.
I believe in the rapture. I believe the rapture is imminent, which, from a very selfish standpoint, means the End of Depression is imminent. I yearn for that day.
In the meantime, God doesn't want me hiding. I know that.
I keep encountering people who are basically telling me I need to start handing out the candy with scripture booklets, again. It's just hard to start.
Ron and I were talking last night. First, he ordered me 2 pizzas. He wasn't hungry and has issues with pizza. So he had me order 2.
I guess I have breakfast and dinner for a while!
You know, I told Ron - now that things are a little better - up to low income from poverty, I don't see me taking a lot of indulgences. But I might just take a cab one way to the Dollar Store tomorrow.
Ron promptly pulled out his wallet and said "Take it both ways".
I went to bed, slept pretty well. I had today off. I woke up around 8. I watched Supernatural for a while but I've seen the Leviathan episodes.
I never did see how they get Dick Roman, though.
I watched as much as I wanted, took a shower, did my God Time. I forgot to take my antidepressant. [facepalm] Ron called me a cab, and a guy we know picked us up.
I arrived at the dollar store in a Lincoln Town Car. I found that pretty funny.
I went in, looked around, found a few things but not 100% what I wanted. I went to Arbys. I forgot I had the pizza. No way could I eat all those fries - the "medium" appeared to be "half the fryer basket". I knew Ron would love to eat the cold leftovers - don't I sound awful? But he loved them.
I got him a roast beef with cheese and bacon. He made a horrendous mess eating it but had a good time.
I, in the meantime, went on to the next dollar store. I love that about Houston - within walking distance, even depressed.
I went in and found some interesting things, a few things I needed and some I didn't but got anyway. I stayed well within budget.
I even got some "harvest" clings for work, when I take down the Halloween stuff.
Finished, I went to Starbucks, and got a steamer with pumpkin spice in it. Pretty good. No, I don't want coffee. I hate coffee. I only like coffee if I'm very manic, or I have to test the coffee machine.
Mood's finally improving. That's the thing I hate about meds - and has got me thinking maybe I need to take all the mood stuff in the morning, not the evening.
Ron called me a cab to come home. A nice lady picked me up. Her boyfriend was snoring in the front sleep, and she was playing gangster rap. We discussed the "N" word and I mentioned how one grandmother disowned me for marrying Ron. She gaped.
We had a nice ride home, she got a good tip (they both did) and I dragged my bag in the house. I sorted it out a little, took all my meds, and took a brief nap.
Tomorrow is truck day. I want to be well rested. I also have the "Life's unpredictable, sleep when you can" perspective, especially since sleep deprivation really aggravates my illness. [sigh]
Being sick is a huge part of who I am. I hate that. I have to accommodate. I have to work around. I have to compromise. I have to take toxic medications.
I remember, though, years ago. I kept having severe abdominal pains. I had a lot of nausea too. I would ask for medical help and they'd run some tests, then tell me "You're OK. Go home".
I knew I had something that wanted to kill me. I knew I'd die if I didn't get get help. Happily, God led me to the right people, who diagnosed me and got me medication.
Doc finds me a delightful patient because I am very committed to taking my meds. I mean, really. I'm a huge, steaming mess on my medication. Can you imagine me off? [shudder] It would end up as breaking news.
Doc also finds me entertaining because I always seem to be manic for our visits.
Torbie has just jumped into my lap and onto the computer table. She's sitting on the mouse tray.
I asked her if she had used her "Soft and Pretty" because she was.
She moved in front of the screen and I can't see it. Night.
I know that's not true, I've gotten manic, a day last week, a few days a few weeks before that... but depression kind of eats it all.
I believe in the rapture. I believe the rapture is imminent, which, from a very selfish standpoint, means the End of Depression is imminent. I yearn for that day.
In the meantime, God doesn't want me hiding. I know that.
I keep encountering people who are basically telling me I need to start handing out the candy with scripture booklets, again. It's just hard to start.
Ron and I were talking last night. First, he ordered me 2 pizzas. He wasn't hungry and has issues with pizza. So he had me order 2.
I guess I have breakfast and dinner for a while!
You know, I told Ron - now that things are a little better - up to low income from poverty, I don't see me taking a lot of indulgences. But I might just take a cab one way to the Dollar Store tomorrow.
Ron promptly pulled out his wallet and said "Take it both ways".
I went to bed, slept pretty well. I had today off. I woke up around 8. I watched Supernatural for a while but I've seen the Leviathan episodes.
I never did see how they get Dick Roman, though.
I watched as much as I wanted, took a shower, did my God Time. I forgot to take my antidepressant. [facepalm] Ron called me a cab, and a guy we know picked us up.
I arrived at the dollar store in a Lincoln Town Car. I found that pretty funny.
I went in, looked around, found a few things but not 100% what I wanted. I went to Arbys. I forgot I had the pizza. No way could I eat all those fries - the "medium" appeared to be "half the fryer basket". I knew Ron would love to eat the cold leftovers - don't I sound awful? But he loved them.
I got him a roast beef with cheese and bacon. He made a horrendous mess eating it but had a good time.
I, in the meantime, went on to the next dollar store. I love that about Houston - within walking distance, even depressed.
I went in and found some interesting things, a few things I needed and some I didn't but got anyway. I stayed well within budget.
I even got some "harvest" clings for work, when I take down the Halloween stuff.
Finished, I went to Starbucks, and got a steamer with pumpkin spice in it. Pretty good. No, I don't want coffee. I hate coffee. I only like coffee if I'm very manic, or I have to test the coffee machine.
Mood's finally improving. That's the thing I hate about meds - and has got me thinking maybe I need to take all the mood stuff in the morning, not the evening.
Ron called me a cab to come home. A nice lady picked me up. Her boyfriend was snoring in the front sleep, and she was playing gangster rap. We discussed the "N" word and I mentioned how one grandmother disowned me for marrying Ron. She gaped.
We had a nice ride home, she got a good tip (they both did) and I dragged my bag in the house. I sorted it out a little, took all my meds, and took a brief nap.
Tomorrow is truck day. I want to be well rested. I also have the "Life's unpredictable, sleep when you can" perspective, especially since sleep deprivation really aggravates my illness. [sigh]
Being sick is a huge part of who I am. I hate that. I have to accommodate. I have to work around. I have to compromise. I have to take toxic medications.
I remember, though, years ago. I kept having severe abdominal pains. I had a lot of nausea too. I would ask for medical help and they'd run some tests, then tell me "You're OK. Go home".
I knew I had something that wanted to kill me. I knew I'd die if I didn't get get help. Happily, God led me to the right people, who diagnosed me and got me medication.
Doc finds me a delightful patient because I am very committed to taking my meds. I mean, really. I'm a huge, steaming mess on my medication. Can you imagine me off? [shudder] It would end up as breaking news.
Doc also finds me entertaining because I always seem to be manic for our visits.
Torbie has just jumped into my lap and onto the computer table. She's sitting on the mouse tray.
I asked her if she had used her "Soft and Pretty" because she was.
She moved in front of the screen and I can't see it. Night.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
A tale of two banks
$10.69
Not a big amount, but when Ron found a "debit transaction" for the above amount he went on alert. He never uses the business debit card. Ever. He keeps it in a metal wallet.
He called the bank.
1. They said his change deposit (in quarters) was short by $10.69 so they had to do the debit. Why, Ron replied, would it have pennies? We never deposit pennies.
2. Then, another representative told Ron that "Maybe his helper" made an unauthorized debit. Ron immediately defended me. On a practical note, it is 3 buses to the bank. Hours in transit each way. For $11? Ron gave me $25 willingly, tonight, for pizza. Why would I rob him? I was pretty pissed they were throwing rocks at ME when they're the thieves.
Yes, Bank of America. Thieves. Sneaky, lying little thieves who rob a blind man in a wheelchair!
"Do you know how many candy bars I had to sell to make that money?" Ron has a good point.
Anyway, pretty furious.
I am busy selling Ron on MY bank. The good bank.
I got hacked twice, and lost my debit card once. I never did find that debit card.
Once they caught the transaction, refused it, and called me to notify me of the problem. They "killed the card" and issued me a new one.
When I lost my debit card, they were very nice about issuing a new one.
Lastly, I had my card number stolen and some transactions run. They went through all my transactions to make sure the good guys got paid, then killed the card, issuing me a new one, without any drama.
Sometimes I'm so foggy I can't even fill out the deposit slip, but I tell them the number and they do it. Happily. They are wonderful, understanding, and nice.
The manager even spins Ron around in his wheelchair, just for fun, now and then.
No drama. No lying. No finger pointing - just really awesome customer service.
Or we could have that.
Not a big amount, but when Ron found a "debit transaction" for the above amount he went on alert. He never uses the business debit card. Ever. He keeps it in a metal wallet.
He called the bank.
1. They said his change deposit (in quarters) was short by $10.69 so they had to do the debit. Why, Ron replied, would it have pennies? We never deposit pennies.
2. Then, another representative told Ron that "Maybe his helper" made an unauthorized debit. Ron immediately defended me. On a practical note, it is 3 buses to the bank. Hours in transit each way. For $11? Ron gave me $25 willingly, tonight, for pizza. Why would I rob him? I was pretty pissed they were throwing rocks at ME when they're the thieves.
Yes, Bank of America. Thieves. Sneaky, lying little thieves who rob a blind man in a wheelchair!
"Do you know how many candy bars I had to sell to make that money?" Ron has a good point.
Anyway, pretty furious.
I am busy selling Ron on MY bank. The good bank.
I got hacked twice, and lost my debit card once. I never did find that debit card.
Once they caught the transaction, refused it, and called me to notify me of the problem. They "killed the card" and issued me a new one.
When I lost my debit card, they were very nice about issuing a new one.
Lastly, I had my card number stolen and some transactions run. They went through all my transactions to make sure the good guys got paid, then killed the card, issuing me a new one, without any drama.
Sometimes I'm so foggy I can't even fill out the deposit slip, but I tell them the number and they do it. Happily. They are wonderful, understanding, and nice.
The manager even spins Ron around in his wheelchair, just for fun, now and then.
No drama. No lying. No finger pointing - just really awesome customer service.
Or we could have that.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
I'm going to do some tagging!
I woke up at 4 AM yesterday. Pretty tired as usual. I got up late and only had time for my shower.
We went to the warehouse. I had to get a lot of snack products. I did that. I had a horrible cashier who mangled the transaction a couple of times and threw my merchandise around. I wasn't happy.
She was also getting text-to-speech voice messages on her cell phone, and kept stopping to push buttons on her touch screen so she could hear them. I doubt, I told Ron, she'll be there long.
The cashier supervisor is kind of a hard nail to begin with. she won't tolerate that. I saw the manager in the parking lot and thought about mentioning it to her, but figured the woman will hang herself.
It's ironic, because I picked the black lady over the asian because I figured she'd be "nicer". [snort]
I had to load the truck myself, not as bad as it sounds because snack items, as a rule, are very light.
I loaded it, and hopped in the truck. We talked about dogs on the way to work. Basically, the guy's room-mate has 2 dogs. Our guy tolerates the dogs and even likes them, but finds the barking as annoying as I do.
Interesting. I always figure "dog people" just turn off the barking in their heads. I have no problems with dogs, as a rule, if they are friendly and properly confined. I do have a problem with the barking. I'm not doing anything to upset my neighbors like that. I'm so quiet they don't even know when I'm home.
My frustration: they don't return the favor. If it's not a loud party it's a barking dog, but GUESS WHAT? My mother drank a lot, every day she was pregnant, so I have to suck it up. I can't go live in the country, like I'd like to, because I can't drive. I have to live in an apartment or suburb.
Usually, that has worked out OK, but sometimes I find that very frustrating.
So, we got to work. I got the carts (the fold out and the 3 shelf) and loaded all my snacks. I pushed the heavy cart up the ramp, while our helper pushed the light one.
It's been my experience, on truck day, guys don't like to help unload the truck, but they do like to push a light cart up the ramp. Then they can feel like they "helped" as I stand there dripping with sweat.
My favorite, one time I came out, I'm literally drenched in sweat, and the guy goes, "Can you get me a cold bottle of water? It's hot." I put the carts aside, went in, got his water, and got myself a cold diet soda.
[shaking my head] Anyway, I got it all in the building. I didn't get anything stuck in the security door because I only had snacks on the long cart. Oh, it's horrible when that alarm goes off.
Then I took all my "Old" inventory and put it on my cart, to be stocked first. I had the new stuff right at hand if I ran out of "old". I used up pretty much all my old inventory and "tapped" some of the new stuff.
Ron kept busy with sodas. We had a jammed soda in our oldest machine. Ron and I worked together, to get it out. Of course it leaked, and being Big Red, looked remarkably like human blood gushing down the slide. I cleaned that all up.
Done with snacks, I stocked food. I figured out a way to keep ramen, microwave buckets, 2 shelves of sandwiches, and a row of burritos in the food machine, with each item in an optimal position.
Done with food, I got my can of White Lithium Grease. We bought it the other day at Home Depot.
I stood next to "The food beast" (a food machine formerly located by "the beast" bottled vendor), shaking the can as directed. One of the blue shirts (a maintenance guy) gaped at me. The lithium made a rattling sound remarkably similar to a can of spray paint.
"I'm going to do some tagging" I told him in a very bored fashion. He gawked.
(For my international readers "Tagging" is the act of making graffiti.)
I laughed and showed him the can. He nodded. I opened the machine and went after the latches. They are very stiff as you move them to the downward position. One was great after one shot of lithium (the uses never end, mood stabilizer, lubricant...), the other needed "a double". It's much better now.
Then I put the lithium in a safe place Ron designated.
I had to put everything away, a challenge. But I did it. I still have a lot of bottled soda sitting on my carts.
We left, went home, and went to Walmart.
Apparently, my day needed more strangeness. As I got in the vehicle the man sitting behind my seat reached forward, shoved his hand on my had, and forcibly stroked my hair as I sat there in shock. "Oh, it's so soft and pretty" he said "Go bring me some lotion".
CLEARLY the guy was limited. I realized he also had: Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, bipolar disorder, and a pretty strong mania.
No, I did not get him lotion.
I just leaned forward in my seat as Ron (who'd had a drink at home before leaving), engaged him in conversation. His attention on Ron, he ignored me.
When we got out I told the driver what had happened. The driver knows us well and was horrified.
"Please" I asked him "Tell the group home and have them talk to him?" He agreed. I'm sure the driver did, too.
I got my groceries, stuff for work, etc. I ended up with 3 bags, one for work, 2 for personal. In my defense I did have a gallon of milk.
We got home pretty late and I put up my purchases, exhausted. I didn't even do my God Time or turn on the computer. I went pretty much straight to bed, after a quick meal and taking my pills.
This morning, I slept in as late as I could, which turned out to be 8 AM. I watched Supernatural for a while and then took a nap (hey, it's my day off). As I slept, I felt a thump on the bed and heard a very polite meow. I opened my eyes to see Baby Girl standing over me.
She hasn't slept with me since the night Bubba died. When she was a kitten, she tried to sleep with me a few times, but I always rolled over on her. However, she's a bigger girl now.
I patted the bed and spoke kindly to her, encouraging her to sleep with me. She doesn't like a lot of touching when she's in bed (that sounds really wrong), so I didn't touch her. She has growled and hissed at Ron if he pets her too much, sleeping with him.
She does like plenty of attention when she's not sleeping. She loves to get tummy rubs as she rolls around on the concrete, when I get home.
Cats are quirky, you have to roll with it.
I woke up a few more times to find her sleeping sweetly, next to me. It was lovely, the highlight of my day.
I finally got out of bed.
I have the perfect fall arrangement for my bed. Everything's mismatched of course, but I have a nice cotton sheet, a light fleece blanket, a cotton bedspread, and a cotton blanket. To my right I have a fleece blanket wrapped around a pillow, it's a great body pillow. I like to sleep on my side. On the other side I have a smaller pillow and a wadded blanket.
However, all my "structure" made it impossible to exit. I ended up grabbing the headboard and levering myself out over the pillow.
Ron was awake, and drinking. He was pretty belligerent. He wanted to do something work related and at one point apologized for "making me work".
"I don't mind the working" I told him. "I do mind the attitude." He cleaned it up after that,. but he was almost finished anyway. Now he's in the back, making trips for tomorrow.
We might get a pizza. I still hope to do my God Time (I couldn't with Ron rowdy earlier), take my meds afterward, etc.
We'll see what tomorrow brings.
We went to the warehouse. I had to get a lot of snack products. I did that. I had a horrible cashier who mangled the transaction a couple of times and threw my merchandise around. I wasn't happy.
She was also getting text-to-speech voice messages on her cell phone, and kept stopping to push buttons on her touch screen so she could hear them. I doubt, I told Ron, she'll be there long.
The cashier supervisor is kind of a hard nail to begin with. she won't tolerate that. I saw the manager in the parking lot and thought about mentioning it to her, but figured the woman will hang herself.
It's ironic, because I picked the black lady over the asian because I figured she'd be "nicer". [snort]
I had to load the truck myself, not as bad as it sounds because snack items, as a rule, are very light.
I loaded it, and hopped in the truck. We talked about dogs on the way to work. Basically, the guy's room-mate has 2 dogs. Our guy tolerates the dogs and even likes them, but finds the barking as annoying as I do.
Interesting. I always figure "dog people" just turn off the barking in their heads. I have no problems with dogs, as a rule, if they are friendly and properly confined. I do have a problem with the barking. I'm not doing anything to upset my neighbors like that. I'm so quiet they don't even know when I'm home.
My frustration: they don't return the favor. If it's not a loud party it's a barking dog, but GUESS WHAT? My mother drank a lot, every day she was pregnant, so I have to suck it up. I can't go live in the country, like I'd like to, because I can't drive. I have to live in an apartment or suburb.
Usually, that has worked out OK, but sometimes I find that very frustrating.
So, we got to work. I got the carts (the fold out and the 3 shelf) and loaded all my snacks. I pushed the heavy cart up the ramp, while our helper pushed the light one.
It's been my experience, on truck day, guys don't like to help unload the truck, but they do like to push a light cart up the ramp. Then they can feel like they "helped" as I stand there dripping with sweat.
My favorite, one time I came out, I'm literally drenched in sweat, and the guy goes, "Can you get me a cold bottle of water? It's hot." I put the carts aside, went in, got his water, and got myself a cold diet soda.
[shaking my head] Anyway, I got it all in the building. I didn't get anything stuck in the security door because I only had snacks on the long cart. Oh, it's horrible when that alarm goes off.
Then I took all my "Old" inventory and put it on my cart, to be stocked first. I had the new stuff right at hand if I ran out of "old". I used up pretty much all my old inventory and "tapped" some of the new stuff.
Ron kept busy with sodas. We had a jammed soda in our oldest machine. Ron and I worked together, to get it out. Of course it leaked, and being Big Red, looked remarkably like human blood gushing down the slide. I cleaned that all up.
Done with snacks, I stocked food. I figured out a way to keep ramen, microwave buckets, 2 shelves of sandwiches, and a row of burritos in the food machine, with each item in an optimal position.
Done with food, I got my can of White Lithium Grease. We bought it the other day at Home Depot.
I stood next to "The food beast" (a food machine formerly located by "the beast" bottled vendor), shaking the can as directed. One of the blue shirts (a maintenance guy) gaped at me. The lithium made a rattling sound remarkably similar to a can of spray paint.
"I'm going to do some tagging" I told him in a very bored fashion. He gawked.
(For my international readers "Tagging" is the act of making graffiti.)
I laughed and showed him the can. He nodded. I opened the machine and went after the latches. They are very stiff as you move them to the downward position. One was great after one shot of lithium (the uses never end, mood stabilizer, lubricant...), the other needed "a double". It's much better now.
Then I put the lithium in a safe place Ron designated.
I had to put everything away, a challenge. But I did it. I still have a lot of bottled soda sitting on my carts.
We left, went home, and went to Walmart.
Apparently, my day needed more strangeness. As I got in the vehicle the man sitting behind my seat reached forward, shoved his hand on my had, and forcibly stroked my hair as I sat there in shock. "Oh, it's so soft and pretty" he said "Go bring me some lotion".
CLEARLY the guy was limited. I realized he also had: Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, bipolar disorder, and a pretty strong mania.
No, I did not get him lotion.
I just leaned forward in my seat as Ron (who'd had a drink at home before leaving), engaged him in conversation. His attention on Ron, he ignored me.
When we got out I told the driver what had happened. The driver knows us well and was horrified.
"Please" I asked him "Tell the group home and have them talk to him?" He agreed. I'm sure the driver did, too.
I got my groceries, stuff for work, etc. I ended up with 3 bags, one for work, 2 for personal. In my defense I did have a gallon of milk.
We got home pretty late and I put up my purchases, exhausted. I didn't even do my God Time or turn on the computer. I went pretty much straight to bed, after a quick meal and taking my pills.
This morning, I slept in as late as I could, which turned out to be 8 AM. I watched Supernatural for a while and then took a nap (hey, it's my day off). As I slept, I felt a thump on the bed and heard a very polite meow. I opened my eyes to see Baby Girl standing over me.
She hasn't slept with me since the night Bubba died. When she was a kitten, she tried to sleep with me a few times, but I always rolled over on her. However, she's a bigger girl now.
I patted the bed and spoke kindly to her, encouraging her to sleep with me. She doesn't like a lot of touching when she's in bed (that sounds really wrong), so I didn't touch her. She has growled and hissed at Ron if he pets her too much, sleeping with him.
She does like plenty of attention when she's not sleeping. She loves to get tummy rubs as she rolls around on the concrete, when I get home.
Cats are quirky, you have to roll with it.
I woke up a few more times to find her sleeping sweetly, next to me. It was lovely, the highlight of my day.
I finally got out of bed.
I have the perfect fall arrangement for my bed. Everything's mismatched of course, but I have a nice cotton sheet, a light fleece blanket, a cotton bedspread, and a cotton blanket. To my right I have a fleece blanket wrapped around a pillow, it's a great body pillow. I like to sleep on my side. On the other side I have a smaller pillow and a wadded blanket.
However, all my "structure" made it impossible to exit. I ended up grabbing the headboard and levering myself out over the pillow.
Ron was awake, and drinking. He was pretty belligerent. He wanted to do something work related and at one point apologized for "making me work".
"I don't mind the working" I told him. "I do mind the attitude." He cleaned it up after that,. but he was almost finished anyway. Now he's in the back, making trips for tomorrow.
We might get a pizza. I still hope to do my God Time (I couldn't with Ron rowdy earlier), take my meds afterward, etc.
We'll see what tomorrow brings.
Monday, October 20, 2014
Backseat vendors
Torbie cat likes to crawl or jump in my lap and curl up on my chest with my arms supporting her. I love our cuddles, and she does too.
I know she loves the cat treats I dole out (both girls are huge fans of any flavor Temptations cat treat). I can always use more cuddles.
However, my allergies have been horrific.
See, I'm allergic to cats. I'm not going to let that stop us, though.
I just wish dogs were as quiet as cats. The dog behind us has been going nuts today, barking and baying. Shut up!
I can only hope the owners will get sick of it (they didn't have any pets for the first couple years) and get rid of it. They do put it in the house at night, so I should be able to sleep.
I just don't see the appeal of having a pet you keep in the yard, and one that makes a lot of racket to boot. I wouldn't want a pet that disturbed the neighbors. Both my neighbors, on either side, like the cats.
I know it's probably just some stray dogs sniffing around, but I know someone's home. They could run off the strays and get us some peace and quiet.
That's one thing I don't understand: why have a pet you're going to neglect? Is it because they have a kid? We got (rented) a house, we had the baby, now it's time to get a dog?
I know a lot of people at work thought I was pregnant, when we mentioned we were buying a home.
I just did an ownership search, apparently it's been flipped twice in the last couple years - to various landlords. That, generally, does not bode well.
And Ron's trying to sleep in the man cave, which is at the back of the house, not far from the dog. It already woke him up once. I find that upsetting.
Enough about this. I am sick of writing about rude neighbors.
Torbie's climbed up on my computer desk, sitting on the mouse tray. I had to move the mouse of course.
While mildly manic, I had the energy to clean and organize part of the kitchen. I've told Ron repeatedly, I just need help figuring out where to put things. He seems resistant to helping, which I find baffling, because he is always complaining about the kitchen?
Anyway, I found a ton of tea - bagged and wrapped, on the counter and in a cabinet. I don't drink a lot of tea these days, I find it upsets my stomach.
I thought about throwing it away, but them I remembered we (surprisingly) have a lot of tea drinkers at work. I took it in today and left it out for them.
The loose, bagged tea, went in a drawer. They'll have a lot of fun drinking that up.
I put the "box" teas out on the counter. Sure enough, the guys had a lot of fun going through it.
One of them said something to me, later. First he thanked me for the tea.
I did tell a couple people to help themselves, I brought the tea to share. I didn't want them thinking it was someone else's. I admit I did want a speck of recognition, .
Anyway, he thanked me for the tea and made a big production out of saying "Some people say you are too loud but I don't agree."
What?
My drivers are all saying the same thing lately "You're so quiet, Heather, is everything OK?" I just tell them I'm a little depressed, tired, queasy, whatever. Normally I am more eubullient.
I looked at this guy, who had nothing better to do than bash the hand that just fed him.
I didn't mention the two, very loud, television sets in our area. I didn't mention the noise from the vending machines. I didn't mention the constant hum of conversation. I didn't mention I only talk to Ron. I don't stand there in front of the vending machines, shrieking at everyone.
When I'm working with a customer, I keep my voice to a normal speaking level.
I stuck to the truth. "Ron has a severe hearing loss." I told him, knowing full well he was the one who thought I was "too loud". "I have to yell at him or he won't hear me."
Oh, he said, and left.
Jerk.
I will continue to be nice to him, even though he never, ever, buys a single item out of our machines, yet always has lots of ideas on how I can "better" run my business. I hate backseat vendors.
I find it particularly frustrating when they ask me to carry a higher end item, yet are unwilling to pay a fair cost. So they end up with cheap selections because that's all they'll buy. Yet I see them bringing in takeout from Red Lobster.
The other vendor is working with Ron to figure out when to raise the sandwich prices to $2.50, from $2.25. That's right. Two and a quarter. Yet the gas station down the street sells a very similar sandwich for $5.
That's their right, I never expect anyone to buy anything from us. Any purchase is a gift to us, I thank them, even Ron thanks them, and if they look at me, baffled, I remind them "You're helping the handicapped." I mean it. I am happy to serve them and love to see people picking out their selection.
I just don't like someone from another culture trying to dominate me because he doesn't like me talking loudly to my nearly deaf husband. Ugh.
That is a gripe, people who immigrate to America and then want us to act like the people "back home". You hated back home. That's why you moved here. [shaking my head] That applies across the board, to nearly every group of immigrants.
Boy, I'm cranky today.
That's what I hate about depression, it paints everything in shades of ugly. I get angry about everything (I don't vocalize it, though, aside from some kvetching with Ron about shared gripes). Everything is hopeless.
The other vendor asked me an interesting question today, when I told him I was manic (it was pretty apparent). "How long will it last?"
"A couple days, to a week." I replied. If I don't rapid cycle like I am now.
I hate you, rapid cycles.
I know she loves the cat treats I dole out (both girls are huge fans of any flavor Temptations cat treat). I can always use more cuddles.
However, my allergies have been horrific.
See, I'm allergic to cats. I'm not going to let that stop us, though.
I just wish dogs were as quiet as cats. The dog behind us has been going nuts today, barking and baying. Shut up!
I can only hope the owners will get sick of it (they didn't have any pets for the first couple years) and get rid of it. They do put it in the house at night, so I should be able to sleep.
I just don't see the appeal of having a pet you keep in the yard, and one that makes a lot of racket to boot. I wouldn't want a pet that disturbed the neighbors. Both my neighbors, on either side, like the cats.
I know it's probably just some stray dogs sniffing around, but I know someone's home. They could run off the strays and get us some peace and quiet.
That's one thing I don't understand: why have a pet you're going to neglect? Is it because they have a kid? We got (rented) a house, we had the baby, now it's time to get a dog?
I know a lot of people at work thought I was pregnant, when we mentioned we were buying a home.
I just did an ownership search, apparently it's been flipped twice in the last couple years - to various landlords. That, generally, does not bode well.
And Ron's trying to sleep in the man cave, which is at the back of the house, not far from the dog. It already woke him up once. I find that upsetting.
Enough about this. I am sick of writing about rude neighbors.
Torbie's climbed up on my computer desk, sitting on the mouse tray. I had to move the mouse of course.
While mildly manic, I had the energy to clean and organize part of the kitchen. I've told Ron repeatedly, I just need help figuring out where to put things. He seems resistant to helping, which I find baffling, because he is always complaining about the kitchen?
Anyway, I found a ton of tea - bagged and wrapped, on the counter and in a cabinet. I don't drink a lot of tea these days, I find it upsets my stomach.
I thought about throwing it away, but them I remembered we (surprisingly) have a lot of tea drinkers at work. I took it in today and left it out for them.
The loose, bagged tea, went in a drawer. They'll have a lot of fun drinking that up.
I put the "box" teas out on the counter. Sure enough, the guys had a lot of fun going through it.
One of them said something to me, later. First he thanked me for the tea.
I did tell a couple people to help themselves, I brought the tea to share. I didn't want them thinking it was someone else's. I admit I did want a speck of recognition, .
Anyway, he thanked me for the tea and made a big production out of saying "Some people say you are too loud but I don't agree."
What?
My drivers are all saying the same thing lately "You're so quiet, Heather, is everything OK?" I just tell them I'm a little depressed, tired, queasy, whatever. Normally I am more eubullient.
I looked at this guy, who had nothing better to do than bash the hand that just fed him.
I didn't mention the two, very loud, television sets in our area. I didn't mention the noise from the vending machines. I didn't mention the constant hum of conversation. I didn't mention I only talk to Ron. I don't stand there in front of the vending machines, shrieking at everyone.
When I'm working with a customer, I keep my voice to a normal speaking level.
I stuck to the truth. "Ron has a severe hearing loss." I told him, knowing full well he was the one who thought I was "too loud". "I have to yell at him or he won't hear me."
Oh, he said, and left.
Jerk.
I will continue to be nice to him, even though he never, ever, buys a single item out of our machines, yet always has lots of ideas on how I can "better" run my business. I hate backseat vendors.
I find it particularly frustrating when they ask me to carry a higher end item, yet are unwilling to pay a fair cost. So they end up with cheap selections because that's all they'll buy. Yet I see them bringing in takeout from Red Lobster.
The other vendor is working with Ron to figure out when to raise the sandwich prices to $2.50, from $2.25. That's right. Two and a quarter. Yet the gas station down the street sells a very similar sandwich for $5.
That's their right, I never expect anyone to buy anything from us. Any purchase is a gift to us, I thank them, even Ron thanks them, and if they look at me, baffled, I remind them "You're helping the handicapped." I mean it. I am happy to serve them and love to see people picking out their selection.
I just don't like someone from another culture trying to dominate me because he doesn't like me talking loudly to my nearly deaf husband. Ugh.
That is a gripe, people who immigrate to America and then want us to act like the people "back home". You hated back home. That's why you moved here. [shaking my head] That applies across the board, to nearly every group of immigrants.
Boy, I'm cranky today.
That's what I hate about depression, it paints everything in shades of ugly. I get angry about everything (I don't vocalize it, though, aside from some kvetching with Ron about shared gripes). Everything is hopeless.
The other vendor asked me an interesting question today, when I told him I was manic (it was pretty apparent). "How long will it last?"
"A couple days, to a week." I replied. If I don't rapid cycle like I am now.
I hate you, rapid cycles.
Monday
I desperately wanted to go to bed early, but the neighbors had a guest over, with kids, and they all played out back by my bedroom until well after 7 PM.
Kids are going to do that, and they were pretty quiet, but there's no way I could have slept.
If I could go back in time (assuming I had a bigger budget and I could drive), I would get a big piece of land and a small mobile home, out in the middle of the country, with a nice tall fence. It's just a little too personal hearing people talk while I'm lying in bed.
Anyway, I got "about" 8 hours, woke up tired. I hit the snooze button a few times and figured I wouldn't have time for my God Time, but I had more time than I thought. I did it and even had a whey protein with breakfast.
Our ride was late, for work.
We barely made the sandwich delivery. Happily all machines were working and didn't need much stocking. I determined I DO need a full resupply on snacks. I did a basic stock on snacks, serviced the food machines, and helped Ron.
I wasn't worried, we'll be back tomorrow.
Time to go. We left.
When Ron and I had talked about going to Home Depot after work, I assumed we would do just that. No, Ron replied, we were going home (we ended up having a 2 hour layover), and then to the store, in case "They left us there too long".
I told him, at one point, "We would have been home by now even if they left us there 2 hours, and we haven't even left yet." I wasn't bitchy about it, just resigned.
I am cycling between mania and depression today. I just want to sleep and "turn off" (depression), and I have all kinds of interesting ideas (the mania). It's wearing on top of the depression.
Torbie sat on my chest, purring, eating the odd treat, as I watched "Supernatural" and then part of "Castle". I really am happy with a basic cable package - something the salesmen just can't understand.
Of course she made my allergies flare, but I'm OK with that. I just mainly have a dry, occasional cough.
We finally went to the store. Ron got his specialty toilet seat- he's been having vapors over the current one and it's plastic hinges. He's worried they will break and we'll be without a toilet seat. It's not a big deal to me but it was causing him anxiety.
I don't want him stressed out, so we went to the store. We got his toilet seat. I bought some white lithium grease for the Food Beast - it has some very stiff door latches. It needs grease. Now I have it.
White lithium grease is a good thing for anyone in vending, anyway. It has a lot of uses. Ron also wants me to "do" the hinges on one of our soda machines.
I left Ron by the door with our stuff, and then went in search of buckets and lids. They are incredibly useful for the disaster kit.
I found some 2 gallons, 2 gallon lids, a standard 5 gallon, and a fancy 5 gallon gamma-seal lid. I also got some extra 5 gallon lids, standard style. I will need to break the lids off some of my inventory - to rotate it. I want to make sure I have a way to seal them, when I'm finished.
I also got a bag of chips and called it "done". I paid and our ride came pretty fast.
We had another pickup but got home somewhere around 1:30. I got a nice 2 hour nap.
Now I just need to finish cleaning/organizing, maybe tackle the disaster kit, see how much room I have left in the trash can, and maybe do a little online shopping.
I still have a little fun money left - Ron gave me some a while back and I put it in my account.
Kids are going to do that, and they were pretty quiet, but there's no way I could have slept.
If I could go back in time (assuming I had a bigger budget and I could drive), I would get a big piece of land and a small mobile home, out in the middle of the country, with a nice tall fence. It's just a little too personal hearing people talk while I'm lying in bed.
Anyway, I got "about" 8 hours, woke up tired. I hit the snooze button a few times and figured I wouldn't have time for my God Time, but I had more time than I thought. I did it and even had a whey protein with breakfast.
Our ride was late, for work.
We barely made the sandwich delivery. Happily all machines were working and didn't need much stocking. I determined I DO need a full resupply on snacks. I did a basic stock on snacks, serviced the food machines, and helped Ron.
I wasn't worried, we'll be back tomorrow.
Time to go. We left.
When Ron and I had talked about going to Home Depot after work, I assumed we would do just that. No, Ron replied, we were going home (we ended up having a 2 hour layover), and then to the store, in case "They left us there too long".
I told him, at one point, "We would have been home by now even if they left us there 2 hours, and we haven't even left yet." I wasn't bitchy about it, just resigned.
I am cycling between mania and depression today. I just want to sleep and "turn off" (depression), and I have all kinds of interesting ideas (the mania). It's wearing on top of the depression.
Torbie sat on my chest, purring, eating the odd treat, as I watched "Supernatural" and then part of "Castle". I really am happy with a basic cable package - something the salesmen just can't understand.
Of course she made my allergies flare, but I'm OK with that. I just mainly have a dry, occasional cough.
We finally went to the store. Ron got his specialty toilet seat- he's been having vapors over the current one and it's plastic hinges. He's worried they will break and we'll be without a toilet seat. It's not a big deal to me but it was causing him anxiety.
I don't want him stressed out, so we went to the store. We got his toilet seat. I bought some white lithium grease for the Food Beast - it has some very stiff door latches. It needs grease. Now I have it.
White lithium grease is a good thing for anyone in vending, anyway. It has a lot of uses. Ron also wants me to "do" the hinges on one of our soda machines.
I left Ron by the door with our stuff, and then went in search of buckets and lids. They are incredibly useful for the disaster kit.
I found some 2 gallons, 2 gallon lids, a standard 5 gallon, and a fancy 5 gallon gamma-seal lid. I also got some extra 5 gallon lids, standard style. I will need to break the lids off some of my inventory - to rotate it. I want to make sure I have a way to seal them, when I'm finished.
I also got a bag of chips and called it "done". I paid and our ride came pretty fast.
We had another pickup but got home somewhere around 1:30. I got a nice 2 hour nap.
Now I just need to finish cleaning/organizing, maybe tackle the disaster kit, see how much room I have left in the trash can, and maybe do a little online shopping.
I still have a little fun money left - Ron gave me some a while back and I put it in my account.
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Finally manic
Well, the party lasted until well after 10:30, when Ron called the police. He had been calling the sheriff, but I don't know if they came out. The music would go down for a little while but then right back up again after they drank another beer (I'm guessing, I didn't see them drinking).
Ron finally called our precinct. What is the difference? I couldn't tell you, but a call to the precinct seems to have better results.
However, Ron burned his bridges pretty bad with the whole Barkappotamous drama, as you may remember. He would make several angry calls a night, until they finally told him to call the sheriff instead.
We got that settled, and #2 is great now. They don't leave trash everywhere, they have a small house dog, and they're quiet.
I don't know why #6 is getting progressively more aggressive in his partying, when the kids have a birthday. I don't know why they keep having kids when he told me "It's getting crowded", and he works 80 hour weeks. I don't know why they bought a small house, with a small yard and driveway, if they don't believe in birth control. I don't know why he thought I'd hand over my driveway for his family's parking lot. I was so glad, last night, I hadn't.
I don't know. [shaking head] If it wasn't for his wife I'd wish they'd move out. But she's nice.
I don't think it's a good idea to teach kids to have late night parties, disturbing the neighbors, screaming, yelling, and kicking a soccer ball at 10 PM right outside someone's bedroom, when you know they are home. But they'll reap that behavior when it's pointed at them, one day.
I can only assume they are in some kind of church (because, and I find this most provoking, he swore up and down to friends of mine he was a born-again Christian) where birth control is forbidden. I don't know.
Ron cancelled our ride to church, which made me unhappy, but he said we needed our sleep after all the drama. I agreed.
So I woke up around 7:30. I heard some cleaning up noises and a vehicle drive away around 8. He left for work, apparently. That must have been a lot of fun after last night. I doubt he even got 8 hours of sleep. Please God everyone will be quiet today.
Since I was a little manic, I did my God Time. I like to give Him my best, whatever that may be.
I plan to do a lot of home organizing and purging during this mania.
I killed the wasps who had set up camp in my BBQ. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared.
I found 2 balls in the yard and threw them back over the fence. I found an ant mound and poisoned it.
I calculate I spend about 10% of the time manic. I try to use it as much as possible. Spend it doing needed things.
10% of the time I have an average mood. The rest of the time I'm depressed. Sucks to be me, huh?
The manias are not worth the depressions, let me tell you.
However, I do have the mania, I have a mostly empty garbage can, so I plan to do some purging and organizing. I have a lot of trouble figuring out where things ought to go, so I plan to recruit Ron for help with the kitchen (a mess).
I also need to do some work on my bedroom.
Ron finally called our precinct. What is the difference? I couldn't tell you, but a call to the precinct seems to have better results.
However, Ron burned his bridges pretty bad with the whole Barkappotamous drama, as you may remember. He would make several angry calls a night, until they finally told him to call the sheriff instead.
We got that settled, and #2 is great now. They don't leave trash everywhere, they have a small house dog, and they're quiet.
I don't know why #6 is getting progressively more aggressive in his partying, when the kids have a birthday. I don't know why they keep having kids when he told me "It's getting crowded", and he works 80 hour weeks. I don't know why they bought a small house, with a small yard and driveway, if they don't believe in birth control. I don't know why he thought I'd hand over my driveway for his family's parking lot. I was so glad, last night, I hadn't.
I don't know. [shaking head] If it wasn't for his wife I'd wish they'd move out. But she's nice.
I don't think it's a good idea to teach kids to have late night parties, disturbing the neighbors, screaming, yelling, and kicking a soccer ball at 10 PM right outside someone's bedroom, when you know they are home. But they'll reap that behavior when it's pointed at them, one day.
I can only assume they are in some kind of church (because, and I find this most provoking, he swore up and down to friends of mine he was a born-again Christian) where birth control is forbidden. I don't know.
Ron cancelled our ride to church, which made me unhappy, but he said we needed our sleep after all the drama. I agreed.
So I woke up around 7:30. I heard some cleaning up noises and a vehicle drive away around 8. He left for work, apparently. That must have been a lot of fun after last night. I doubt he even got 8 hours of sleep. Please God everyone will be quiet today.
Since I was a little manic, I did my God Time. I like to give Him my best, whatever that may be.
I plan to do a lot of home organizing and purging during this mania.
I killed the wasps who had set up camp in my BBQ. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared.
I found 2 balls in the yard and threw them back over the fence. I found an ant mound and poisoned it.
I calculate I spend about 10% of the time manic. I try to use it as much as possible. Spend it doing needed things.
10% of the time I have an average mood. The rest of the time I'm depressed. Sucks to be me, huh?
The manias are not worth the depressions, let me tell you.
However, I do have the mania, I have a mostly empty garbage can, so I plan to do some purging and organizing. I have a lot of trouble figuring out where things ought to go, so I plan to recruit Ron for help with the kitchen (a mess).
I also need to do some work on my bedroom.
Saturday, October 18, 2014
Powerless
I meant to talk about this a while ago, but forgot.
I forget a lot, but people like having me around. I'm pretty evil, unmedicated.
One thing I hate about vending machine troubles, work issues, noisy neighbors (including the crane and steel cutting companies) - powerlesness.
I like to believe I have power over my life. I like to believe my life is going to go the way I'd like.
I don't like realizing the things I want, and take for granted, in my life, are completely subject to the whims of others.
Take work: my day starts by checking the machines. Are they working?
If they're not, can I fix it?
If I can't fix it, that's a $70 service call. Not counting parts. Our last service call was $100.
Here's another one that freaks me out: plumbing issues. Years ago, I had a demon possessed cut off valve for my toilet. I couldn't cut it off. I was in tears, desperate and frantic. It was the middle of the night.
That's the closest I've ever come to giving up on evangelism. I really thought for a moment "I can't handle this. I can't do it." Of course I can't; but God gives me what I need.
In this case we had a friend who fixed the cut off valve. I had the whole shower-wall falling into the bathtub and raining tiles like rain, issue.
That should have cost probably $10K-15. Instead, God sent a wonderful, bored, man who was looking for a project.
I now have a 5 star shower enclosure.
Happily, Ron and I know a kindly electrician, and we installed a new electrical panel back in 2004. If we need help, we have it.
I could get very tweaky about house foundation issues, but from what I can tell it looks OK. The siding is fine for now.
Business is better - the worst seems to be behind us. Our management, and even our vendors (Dr Pepper) seem to be showering us with wonderful new machines, or the option to get them.
I may have even fixed the rip-off feature on Snack #3, an ongoing issue. We'll see. God showed me.
That's one thing I work on - humility. I find it easier to give God the credit for something He had the whole time, anyway. :)
I am pretty powerless. Hell, I can't even drive. I am dependent on a lot of people for a lot of things.
You can't imagine how awful it was, waiting on the cab to take a dying cat to be put down, and having to wait and watch him suffer.
I'm pretty powerless, but God is a lot bigger than my problems. I need to stop freaking and fumbling around and just toss them over to Him.
I forget a lot, but people like having me around. I'm pretty evil, unmedicated.
One thing I hate about vending machine troubles, work issues, noisy neighbors (including the crane and steel cutting companies) - powerlesness.
I like to believe I have power over my life. I like to believe my life is going to go the way I'd like.
I don't like realizing the things I want, and take for granted, in my life, are completely subject to the whims of others.
Take work: my day starts by checking the machines. Are they working?
If they're not, can I fix it?
If I can't fix it, that's a $70 service call. Not counting parts. Our last service call was $100.
Here's another one that freaks me out: plumbing issues. Years ago, I had a demon possessed cut off valve for my toilet. I couldn't cut it off. I was in tears, desperate and frantic. It was the middle of the night.
That's the closest I've ever come to giving up on evangelism. I really thought for a moment "I can't handle this. I can't do it." Of course I can't; but God gives me what I need.
In this case we had a friend who fixed the cut off valve. I had the whole shower-wall falling into the bathtub and raining tiles like rain, issue.
That should have cost probably $10K-15. Instead, God sent a wonderful, bored, man who was looking for a project.
I now have a 5 star shower enclosure.
Happily, Ron and I know a kindly electrician, and we installed a new electrical panel back in 2004. If we need help, we have it.
I could get very tweaky about house foundation issues, but from what I can tell it looks OK. The siding is fine for now.
Business is better - the worst seems to be behind us. Our management, and even our vendors (Dr Pepper) seem to be showering us with wonderful new machines, or the option to get them.
I may have even fixed the rip-off feature on Snack #3, an ongoing issue. We'll see. God showed me.
That's one thing I work on - humility. I find it easier to give God the credit for something He had the whole time, anyway. :)
I am pretty powerless. Hell, I can't even drive. I am dependent on a lot of people for a lot of things.
You can't imagine how awful it was, waiting on the cab to take a dying cat to be put down, and having to wait and watch him suffer.
I'm pretty powerless, but God is a lot bigger than my problems. I need to stop freaking and fumbling around and just toss them over to Him.
Sofabed
Weekdays are great. The neighbor kids are all at school and it's quiet.
Weekends can bring anything. Today it was 3 strange cars in front of the neighbors house, yet another party in progress, and Ron and I upset they're "ruining the neighborhood".
I've got NO problem with a party. None at all. I do have a problem with very loud mexican polkas blasting from speakers set right next to my bedroom wall. Especially when it runs late at night.
At any rate, a lot of kids screaming in the yard, ball repeatedly kicked against the side of my house. The kids got the dog behind me worked up and he added a lot of barking and baying to the mix. This went on for hours after we got home.
I didn't sleep well last night. I had so been hoping for a nap.
I got up at 4, hit the snooze button a few times, and did my God Time later. (Already done)
Our pickup was a little late, but the driver was nice. I was horribly queasy from my medication (pretty unusual, these days). I crawled on the van, so to speak, and hardly said a word. The driver kept asking me if I was alright and then yelled at Ron - "What did you do to her?!"
I told her I was "OK" but very sick to my stomach from my crazy pills.
Now if I were a driver, I would not greet that statement with relief. Mine did. She apparently likes me a lot, and was very worried.
We went to the warehouse. Ron had a very long list of sodas, nearly 30 cases. I told him "I can't get this, and my snacks. We're going to have to come back for snacks if I get all this."
I was pretty frustrated. For years, Ron would buy sodas and food inventory in preference to snack items. The snack machines looked awful, as a result. Not only that everyone complained and it made me look bad.
No one cares if a soda machine is out of Dr Pepper. Everyone cares if the snack machine is out of Snickers. I'm a little touchy about it.
So, I got what I could (not much). I checked out, to a much smaller total than Ron had expected.
That would be my missing snack items. I did get the pastry. Praise God my label gun is working again. I sell a good 36+48+24 = 108 to 120 items a week. They like my selections.
We did have a problem. Our ride had a head cold earlier this week but swore he was "better now". Ron said he sounded better so I agreed to the outing. However, when he picked us up he sounded very gravelly and coughed a lot.
He caught me looking at him "I don't have a temperature" he told me "I'm not contagious." He then proceeded to tell me about the wonders of zinc lozenges, which I knew about in 1999. He touched Ron's wheelchair. He touched some of the merchandise. He got up close to the guy helping me and made "cute" comments, speaking into his face.
I was riding right next to him.
I sure hope I don't get sick. I did have this: Whey isolate gel. It's good for the immune system and muscle recovery. I also took some supplements.
I tried to load a lot of the drinks onto the "long" folding cart. It got stuck in the door and set off a horrific alarm. I'm sure the police had a lot of fun laughing at me on the security camera.
Ron was desperate to help, and he had already. He said he wanted to get up in the truck bed and help me get the merchandise. I told him OK.
I'm overprotective. I need to stop that. Ron managed for 37 years before he met me.
So, I told him, try. Just don't fall out of the truck bed, I begged, or they'll all blame me. Once he got in there, he remained seated.
The other blind vendor was in an accident recently, and I told his wife "I know what it's like to have people blame you for something that was never your fault." She agreed with a wry laugh.
Ron was careful, and got up in there while I got my carts. Probably a good thing I didn't see that.
He shoved the cases toward the tailgate, I loaded them onto the carts. It worked great and Ron felt wonderful about "helping".
"I hate walking around in that truck bed" I told him. "I get dizzy and I don't feel safe."
After I had all the drama with the alarm - horribly triggering for PTSD, not to mention embarrassing - I loaded the (heavy) drinks onto the 3 shelf metal carts and left the lighter things on the longer metal cart.
I got it all inside, that took a while, and gave Ron my back brace. I only use it for the heavy loading stuff, like handing cases of water up to the nice helper at the warehouse.
I finished my gel. I had a little adjustment to the texture but I like it. I'm glad I have another one. I plan to use it for my next heavy delivery day.
Snacks looked OK, but the food machines were pretty weak. I stocked some ramen, burritos, and sandwiches. I helped Ron with canned and bottled sodas.
All the machines were working.
During the height of our coffee drama, I told Ron I wanted to buy some K-cups, cream packets, and sugar packets. I wanted to put a cream and sugar packet into a cup, then set a K-cup in front of it, on a shelf in the food machine. That way the customers had another option - they wouldn't have to use the coffee machine to make a cup of coffee.
The plant manager bought two Keurig brewers. Why not utilize them?
We've sold hundreds of "K-cups". I had to put out a couple more dozen today, and I just did them yesterday. Ron has thanked me repeatedly, for the idea. It saves a lot of wear and tear on the coffee machine.
I want to keep them available. And, at the lowest denominator, they take up 3 shelves in the food machine. No one likes that food machine, for food, but they love it for K-cups.
Our supervisor says "Sell what they want to buy", so we do.
I got some of my stuff put up and then wedged everything into my corner of the stockroom. I have several milk crates in an L-shape. I have the folded mag-liner (a folding metal cart) wedged in front of the Dr Pepper cans. The sodas follow my "long" wall, sitting on their milk crates (health laws).
On the wall opposite my door, I have 2 metal racks, about 6 feet tall and 18 inches deep. I have the bottled drinks and my snacks literally stacked to the drop ceiling. I also have 2 huge cases of coffee cups on there, too. I still have a tiny amount of room left, so I put one rolling metal cart facing one wall, loaded with merchandise, in front of the sodas. I have another cart lined up in front of my racks, wedged up against the sodas, also loaded with stuff.
I may only have 35 square feet, but I use it! I just praise God I have on site storage. The other vendor has the other 3/4 of the stockroom, but he also has 25 more vending machines.
All that done, we left. We had a good ride home.
"I don't think she was expecting to like me" I told Ron, about the driver. But she did.
We came home and I could see some strange cars in the street, kids running around. Oh, no. Another party.
I ended up yanking out my pull out loveseat. I had a decent nap with Torbie during a lull in the festivities. She's such a sweet, lovely cat.
They're in full party mode, wandering around in the yard. We have horrific mosquitoes right now. I'm amazed they aren't getting eaten alive (I'd be).
The music is pretty loud, but because it's a child's party, I assume it will end up pretty early.
I just wish I could get a good 10 hour sleep.
People in hell want ice water.
Ron and I worry he will "drag the neighborhood down". As I said earlier this week, no one else in the neighborhood has loud music during birthday parties. You might see an inflatable bouncy house and hear the kids, but that's it.
Ron did call the homeowner's association, they'll send him a "bad boy letter". "No loud parties".
Sad people have to be told.
Don't get me wrong: I'm happy for the kid, happy everyone is healthy and energetic. Overall I like them. We could have far worse next door.
I just wish they could turn it down. I'm also a little worried they put their trampoline next to my house. The safety netting is all ripped, and useless. They tore it off. One of the uprights is severely bent. So the thumps I heard were probably kids bounding right into the side of my house.
I'm not real happy about that.
Weekends can bring anything. Today it was 3 strange cars in front of the neighbors house, yet another party in progress, and Ron and I upset they're "ruining the neighborhood".
I've got NO problem with a party. None at all. I do have a problem with very loud mexican polkas blasting from speakers set right next to my bedroom wall. Especially when it runs late at night.
At any rate, a lot of kids screaming in the yard, ball repeatedly kicked against the side of my house. The kids got the dog behind me worked up and he added a lot of barking and baying to the mix. This went on for hours after we got home.
I didn't sleep well last night. I had so been hoping for a nap.
I got up at 4, hit the snooze button a few times, and did my God Time later. (Already done)
Our pickup was a little late, but the driver was nice. I was horribly queasy from my medication (pretty unusual, these days). I crawled on the van, so to speak, and hardly said a word. The driver kept asking me if I was alright and then yelled at Ron - "What did you do to her?!"
I told her I was "OK" but very sick to my stomach from my crazy pills.
Now if I were a driver, I would not greet that statement with relief. Mine did. She apparently likes me a lot, and was very worried.
We went to the warehouse. Ron had a very long list of sodas, nearly 30 cases. I told him "I can't get this, and my snacks. We're going to have to come back for snacks if I get all this."
I was pretty frustrated. For years, Ron would buy sodas and food inventory in preference to snack items. The snack machines looked awful, as a result. Not only that everyone complained and it made me look bad.
No one cares if a soda machine is out of Dr Pepper. Everyone cares if the snack machine is out of Snickers. I'm a little touchy about it.
So, I got what I could (not much). I checked out, to a much smaller total than Ron had expected.
That would be my missing snack items. I did get the pastry. Praise God my label gun is working again. I sell a good 36+48+24 = 108 to 120 items a week. They like my selections.
We did have a problem. Our ride had a head cold earlier this week but swore he was "better now". Ron said he sounded better so I agreed to the outing. However, when he picked us up he sounded very gravelly and coughed a lot.
He caught me looking at him "I don't have a temperature" he told me "I'm not contagious." He then proceeded to tell me about the wonders of zinc lozenges, which I knew about in 1999. He touched Ron's wheelchair. He touched some of the merchandise. He got up close to the guy helping me and made "cute" comments, speaking into his face.
I was riding right next to him.
I sure hope I don't get sick. I did have this: Whey isolate gel. It's good for the immune system and muscle recovery. I also took some supplements.
I tried to load a lot of the drinks onto the "long" folding cart. It got stuck in the door and set off a horrific alarm. I'm sure the police had a lot of fun laughing at me on the security camera.
Ron was desperate to help, and he had already. He said he wanted to get up in the truck bed and help me get the merchandise. I told him OK.
I'm overprotective. I need to stop that. Ron managed for 37 years before he met me.
So, I told him, try. Just don't fall out of the truck bed, I begged, or they'll all blame me. Once he got in there, he remained seated.
The other blind vendor was in an accident recently, and I told his wife "I know what it's like to have people blame you for something that was never your fault." She agreed with a wry laugh.
Ron was careful, and got up in there while I got my carts. Probably a good thing I didn't see that.
He shoved the cases toward the tailgate, I loaded them onto the carts. It worked great and Ron felt wonderful about "helping".
"I hate walking around in that truck bed" I told him. "I get dizzy and I don't feel safe."
After I had all the drama with the alarm - horribly triggering for PTSD, not to mention embarrassing - I loaded the (heavy) drinks onto the 3 shelf metal carts and left the lighter things on the longer metal cart.
I got it all inside, that took a while, and gave Ron my back brace. I only use it for the heavy loading stuff, like handing cases of water up to the nice helper at the warehouse.
I finished my gel. I had a little adjustment to the texture but I like it. I'm glad I have another one. I plan to use it for my next heavy delivery day.
Snacks looked OK, but the food machines were pretty weak. I stocked some ramen, burritos, and sandwiches. I helped Ron with canned and bottled sodas.
All the machines were working.
During the height of our coffee drama, I told Ron I wanted to buy some K-cups, cream packets, and sugar packets. I wanted to put a cream and sugar packet into a cup, then set a K-cup in front of it, on a shelf in the food machine. That way the customers had another option - they wouldn't have to use the coffee machine to make a cup of coffee.
The plant manager bought two Keurig brewers. Why not utilize them?
We've sold hundreds of "K-cups". I had to put out a couple more dozen today, and I just did them yesterday. Ron has thanked me repeatedly, for the idea. It saves a lot of wear and tear on the coffee machine.
I want to keep them available. And, at the lowest denominator, they take up 3 shelves in the food machine. No one likes that food machine, for food, but they love it for K-cups.
Our supervisor says "Sell what they want to buy", so we do.
I got some of my stuff put up and then wedged everything into my corner of the stockroom. I have several milk crates in an L-shape. I have the folded mag-liner (a folding metal cart) wedged in front of the Dr Pepper cans. The sodas follow my "long" wall, sitting on their milk crates (health laws).
On the wall opposite my door, I have 2 metal racks, about 6 feet tall and 18 inches deep. I have the bottled drinks and my snacks literally stacked to the drop ceiling. I also have 2 huge cases of coffee cups on there, too. I still have a tiny amount of room left, so I put one rolling metal cart facing one wall, loaded with merchandise, in front of the sodas. I have another cart lined up in front of my racks, wedged up against the sodas, also loaded with stuff.
I may only have 35 square feet, but I use it! I just praise God I have on site storage. The other vendor has the other 3/4 of the stockroom, but he also has 25 more vending machines.
All that done, we left. We had a good ride home.
"I don't think she was expecting to like me" I told Ron, about the driver. But she did.
We came home and I could see some strange cars in the street, kids running around. Oh, no. Another party.
I ended up yanking out my pull out loveseat. I had a decent nap with Torbie during a lull in the festivities. She's such a sweet, lovely cat.
They're in full party mode, wandering around in the yard. We have horrific mosquitoes right now. I'm amazed they aren't getting eaten alive (I'd be).
The music is pretty loud, but because it's a child's party, I assume it will end up pretty early.
I just wish I could get a good 10 hour sleep.
People in hell want ice water.
Ron and I worry he will "drag the neighborhood down". As I said earlier this week, no one else in the neighborhood has loud music during birthday parties. You might see an inflatable bouncy house and hear the kids, but that's it.
Ron did call the homeowner's association, they'll send him a "bad boy letter". "No loud parties".
Sad people have to be told.
Don't get me wrong: I'm happy for the kid, happy everyone is healthy and energetic. Overall I like them. We could have far worse next door.
I just wish they could turn it down. I'm also a little worried they put their trampoline next to my house. The safety netting is all ripped, and useless. They tore it off. One of the uprights is severely bent. So the thumps I heard were probably kids bounding right into the side of my house.
I'm not real happy about that.
Friday, October 17, 2014
2 Hour nap
I got to hand out 4 Bibles today.
My wonderful repairman fixed my snack machine, and the coffee machine. He is a wonderful, ethical, guy who likes us.
Boy, in vending, you are screwed if you don't have a good repairman.
The other vendors were looking kind of haggard. Wait until next month!
We went to work, the warehouse, bought some supplies. Ron talked to his friend, who is better (Ron didn't want me catching a cold). We will do a truck day tomorrow - lots of heavy labor for me.
I don't mind. I'd much rather unload a truck, than play office politics, but oddly enough people with questions come to me now. I guess I'm easygoing and eager to please.
We got it all done and came home. I took a nap.
I've been feeling kind of dizzy and weird, cause for alarm, in most. For me, that's kind of standard. I wish it would pass. I know my blood sugar is OK, and I just drank 2 quarts of water.
I didn't sleep very well. Ron had a lot of neuropathy pain. He tries to be quiet but it does wake me. The crane company (they build specialty cranes, 1/4 mile away), was making weird noises that almost sounded like loud music. It was pervasive and hard to sleep.
I'd had a nasty headache yesterday around 3, and I had to take some Excedrin. That messed up my sleep, too.
I'm amazed I only took a 2 hour nap today.
My wonderful repairman fixed my snack machine, and the coffee machine. He is a wonderful, ethical, guy who likes us.
Boy, in vending, you are screwed if you don't have a good repairman.
The other vendors were looking kind of haggard. Wait until next month!
We went to work, the warehouse, bought some supplies. Ron talked to his friend, who is better (Ron didn't want me catching a cold). We will do a truck day tomorrow - lots of heavy labor for me.
I don't mind. I'd much rather unload a truck, than play office politics, but oddly enough people with questions come to me now. I guess I'm easygoing and eager to please.
We got it all done and came home. I took a nap.
I've been feeling kind of dizzy and weird, cause for alarm, in most. For me, that's kind of standard. I wish it would pass. I know my blood sugar is OK, and I just drank 2 quarts of water.
I didn't sleep very well. Ron had a lot of neuropathy pain. He tries to be quiet but it does wake me. The crane company (they build specialty cranes, 1/4 mile away), was making weird noises that almost sounded like loud music. It was pervasive and hard to sleep.
I'd had a nasty headache yesterday around 3, and I had to take some Excedrin. That messed up my sleep, too.
I'm amazed I only took a 2 hour nap today.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
A few updates
I've lost 5 pounds in the last couple weeks.
I got rid of the nighttime snack foods. I would NEVER say that at work, though.
I also bought a basic ($5) desktop microphone for the video blogs.
I want to be heard. :)
I got rid of the nighttime snack foods. I would NEVER say that at work, though.
I also bought a basic ($5) desktop microphone for the video blogs.
I want to be heard. :)
You're not that bad
Part of the whole Fetal Alcohol thing - I don't always know all the social rules.
I do know, on some level, I can only whine so much on Facebook.
Oh, I'm so freaking tired and dizzy. I ate not long ago, it's not that. I think it's the excedrin interacting with the mood stabilizers. That always makes me pretty miserable.
I am often faced with a question: which kind of feeling awful, is less desirable? Is it "better" to be dizzy and tired, or have a headache?
Is it better to want to sleep all day, or be evil?
Is it "better" to be tired and stupid? Or is it better to be depressed?
Is it better to be fat, with better mood control? Or is is preferential to be thinner, but poor control?
Yesterday I had to take a half dose of my antidepressant, in the morning. Why? Because I had to program a new vending machine, and pay sales tax. Last year I mailed the sales tax with a blank, signed, check. They had to mail it back for me to fill out the amount.
Ron had to explain I am "special". Brain damage, he said, and she takes some really strong medication for bipolar. Oh, the guy replied. I'll send it today.
I wanted to be a little sharper for this, and I did do the form correctly.
When we got home I took the other tablet. I'm not stupid.
[facepalm] I am a proud woman. I hate admitting weakness. In the past, if I bared my throat, it got torn out, so to speak. Because I'm good at "fronting" and "passing" (presenting a good image), no one believed I was "really that bad".
That is, until extensive testing revealed my abilities range from genius to severely limited. That was a bad day for me, but it did explain a lot.
Ron, of course, saw what he wanted to see at the start, a victimized, helpless, frisky, intelligent woman. I have a lot of layers, though.
For a long while I'd get upset if I'd ask for help and someone would say "Oh, you're not that bad." It's so frustrating to be damaged, yet no one is able to see it.
Why would I ask for help I don't need? And why are people so mean about it?
The crazy, now anyone can see that if they look. Especially if I've been off my meds for a few days.
For instance, Ron has been doing a very bad thing lately. He keeps telling me I don't have to take my meds, if they're so harsh. He'll just "understand when (I'm) mean."
Ron, I told him, remember the migraine I had a few years ago? I was vomiting for two days straight? Two days off my medication and I was so evil you hid in your room with the door closed.
Two days, Ron.
He got very quiet.
See, I have to remember these things.
It's ironic, but I don't worry about Ebola. What scares me is not being able to take my meds for a couple of days, and dying insane.
I find that horrifying.
I do know, on some level, I can only whine so much on Facebook.
Oh, I'm so freaking tired and dizzy. I ate not long ago, it's not that. I think it's the excedrin interacting with the mood stabilizers. That always makes me pretty miserable.
I am often faced with a question: which kind of feeling awful, is less desirable? Is it "better" to be dizzy and tired, or have a headache?
Is it better to want to sleep all day, or be evil?
Is it "better" to be tired and stupid? Or is it better to be depressed?
Is it better to be fat, with better mood control? Or is is preferential to be thinner, but poor control?
Yesterday I had to take a half dose of my antidepressant, in the morning. Why? Because I had to program a new vending machine, and pay sales tax. Last year I mailed the sales tax with a blank, signed, check. They had to mail it back for me to fill out the amount.
Ron had to explain I am "special". Brain damage, he said, and she takes some really strong medication for bipolar. Oh, the guy replied. I'll send it today.
I wanted to be a little sharper for this, and I did do the form correctly.
When we got home I took the other tablet. I'm not stupid.
[facepalm] I am a proud woman. I hate admitting weakness. In the past, if I bared my throat, it got torn out, so to speak. Because I'm good at "fronting" and "passing" (presenting a good image), no one believed I was "really that bad".
That is, until extensive testing revealed my abilities range from genius to severely limited. That was a bad day for me, but it did explain a lot.
Ron, of course, saw what he wanted to see at the start, a victimized, helpless, frisky, intelligent woman. I have a lot of layers, though.
For a long while I'd get upset if I'd ask for help and someone would say "Oh, you're not that bad." It's so frustrating to be damaged, yet no one is able to see it.
Why would I ask for help I don't need? And why are people so mean about it?
The crazy, now anyone can see that if they look. Especially if I've been off my meds for a few days.
For instance, Ron has been doing a very bad thing lately. He keeps telling me I don't have to take my meds, if they're so harsh. He'll just "understand when (I'm) mean."
Ron, I told him, remember the migraine I had a few years ago? I was vomiting for two days straight? Two days off my medication and I was so evil you hid in your room with the door closed.
Two days, Ron.
He got very quiet.
See, I have to remember these things.
It's ironic, but I don't worry about Ebola. What scares me is not being able to take my meds for a couple of days, and dying insane.
I find that horrifying.
Day Off
I slept for 12 hours last night. Apparently I needed it.
I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. I decided I was very tired of my hair. I got out the Color Oops.
Now, in their defense, they say do not use on henna hair.
I had heard stories of it working, so I tried it anyway. I applied it, horrible stench, and let it sit for twice the recommended time.
I rinsed it out for half an hour, and... it's exactly the same.
That's good, and bad. It's good in that I don't have fried hair. I didn't want to destroy my healthy hair. I didn't. I made sure of it by using my deep conditioner. I will use conditioner daily for a while (I normally don't) to ensure my hair stays happy.
It's bad because I still have the red stripe. You can literally see where I stopped coloring. I find it frustrating. I remind myself, it's only a few months and it will be farther back where I can't see it in a mirror.
The ends and all look fine, but my hair stinks of hydrogen sulfide. It's pretty awful. I got a headache from it and had to lay down.
Not what I had planned. I did my God Time, though, and certainly showered.
I got a nap, but not a very good one. Between the dog behind us (normally not a barker), and Ron rummaging around, running his wheelchair into walls, etc., I didn't really sleep well. But I did sleep in last night.
I had some lovely cuddles with Torbie.
We ordered pizza, for once NOT the $5 delivery special. I got a meatlover, took off the italian sausage (NASTY!), and subbed salami. I am left with a delicious treat.
Ron got the Memphis BBQ chicken. Ever since he tried one, he won't eat anything else. I'm just happy to get him eating protein.
His neuropathy is flaring today, he's a little cranky, but not "pointing" it at me.
So, for me, some TV, and hopefully an early bedtime.
I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. I decided I was very tired of my hair. I got out the Color Oops.
Now, in their defense, they say do not use on henna hair.
I had heard stories of it working, so I tried it anyway. I applied it, horrible stench, and let it sit for twice the recommended time.
I rinsed it out for half an hour, and... it's exactly the same.
That's good, and bad. It's good in that I don't have fried hair. I didn't want to destroy my healthy hair. I didn't. I made sure of it by using my deep conditioner. I will use conditioner daily for a while (I normally don't) to ensure my hair stays happy.
It's bad because I still have the red stripe. You can literally see where I stopped coloring. I find it frustrating. I remind myself, it's only a few months and it will be farther back where I can't see it in a mirror.
The ends and all look fine, but my hair stinks of hydrogen sulfide. It's pretty awful. I got a headache from it and had to lay down.
Not what I had planned. I did my God Time, though, and certainly showered.
I got a nap, but not a very good one. Between the dog behind us (normally not a barker), and Ron rummaging around, running his wheelchair into walls, etc., I didn't really sleep well. But I did sleep in last night.
I had some lovely cuddles with Torbie.
We ordered pizza, for once NOT the $5 delivery special. I got a meatlover, took off the italian sausage (NASTY!), and subbed salami. I am left with a delicious treat.
Ron got the Memphis BBQ chicken. Ever since he tried one, he won't eat anything else. I'm just happy to get him eating protein.
His neuropathy is flaring today, he's a little cranky, but not "pointing" it at me.
So, for me, some TV, and hopefully an early bedtime.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Not gloating
I'm trying very hard, not to gloat. As you know, Sunday night my neighbor had a very loud party, running late. He got to sleep in the next day, and we had to get up at 2 AM and go to work.
I mentioned the trouble I had, resisting temptation. I really wanted to make a lot of noise when I got up, and disturb him. I didn't, though.
I wanted to. Thought about it.
So you can imagine how I felt when one of the other neighbors (the red pickup at the end of the street, I think - because it was R&B and NOT Latino music) played music this morning. It wasn't loud, it wasn't bassy, but it was heard and it was 3:45 AM. I couldn't help but snicker as I heard the neighbor open his front door and stagger around before he threw something in the trash can (probably, like me, trying to locate the troublemaker while appearing to "run an errand"). He was clearly both sleep deprived and very groggy. The music lasted a while yet, not bad, but present.
I was lying in bed trying really hard not to snicker, thinking of the uproar next door. I know God doesn't want me to be so gleeful; but it was very just.
Of course it meant I was shorted on my sleep but I thought it was worth it.
I got up and took my shower, did my God Time. Breakfast and ONE antidepressant (I took the other one later) because they make me stupid and I need some brains today.
We went to Walmart. I had 20 minutes. In that time, I managed to do my bank deposit, get Color Oops hair color remover, select my groceries, get cup-a-noodles for work, find Ron's jerky, and check out.
Ron was highly impressed.
I plan to use the color remover tomorrow to strip the henna. I am sick of the color. Yes, I plan to do a strand test.
Worst case, I'd cut it. The other two times I grew my hair out, I cut it when it got about this length.
Well, I took a little piece to do my strand test. I did that and I also swabbed an elbow for the allergy test.
We got home and I put away the milk and yogurt.
Now, off to the warehouse. We got Lipton and snacks.
We got to work. I found Snack 2, my favorite, dead. That sucked. Since the machine is so old odds are they will not be able to fix it. I'll need to get a new machine.
I also found the coffee machine in full blown shenanigans. [sigh] If we didn't need a repairman before, we sure did now!
Even my label gun!
I did stock what I could, but I mainly focused on programming the bottled vendor. The goal: $1 shelf, three $1.10 shelves, $1 shelf. I couldn't get the shelf programming to work, though.
The repairman walked me through it, enough to program selections. I did that x 45 selections and got it done. It doesn't really matter how I paint the house, as long as I change the color.
Done. I told God, though, I'd give Him the credit.
Then I handwrote labels for the pastry, and stocked them into the working machines. I put out some frozen burritos, too. I helped Ron stock sodas. It was very busy.
Our ride was an hour late, had a ton of incomprehensible excuses, and even said she saw me waving every time she drove past! AGH!
I had one of those "God please put Your words in my mouth 'cause I don't want to shame You" moments. He respected that.
At the end of it all she thought we were nice and even accepted a Bible. I guess I did OK thanks to God.
Finally, home, it's so late everyone's home before us. I know someone next door is going to bed early tonight.
I just hope, HOPE, he has learned that everyone has a different schedule, and it's important for us to respect each other.
I mentioned the trouble I had, resisting temptation. I really wanted to make a lot of noise when I got up, and disturb him. I didn't, though.
I wanted to. Thought about it.
So you can imagine how I felt when one of the other neighbors (the red pickup at the end of the street, I think - because it was R&B and NOT Latino music) played music this morning. It wasn't loud, it wasn't bassy, but it was heard and it was 3:45 AM. I couldn't help but snicker as I heard the neighbor open his front door and stagger around before he threw something in the trash can (probably, like me, trying to locate the troublemaker while appearing to "run an errand"). He was clearly both sleep deprived and very groggy. The music lasted a while yet, not bad, but present.
I was lying in bed trying really hard not to snicker, thinking of the uproar next door. I know God doesn't want me to be so gleeful; but it was very just.
Of course it meant I was shorted on my sleep but I thought it was worth it.
I got up and took my shower, did my God Time. Breakfast and ONE antidepressant (I took the other one later) because they make me stupid and I need some brains today.
We went to Walmart. I had 20 minutes. In that time, I managed to do my bank deposit, get Color Oops hair color remover, select my groceries, get cup-a-noodles for work, find Ron's jerky, and check out.
Ron was highly impressed.
I plan to use the color remover tomorrow to strip the henna. I am sick of the color. Yes, I plan to do a strand test.
Worst case, I'd cut it. The other two times I grew my hair out, I cut it when it got about this length.
Well, I took a little piece to do my strand test. I did that and I also swabbed an elbow for the allergy test.
We got home and I put away the milk and yogurt.
Now, off to the warehouse. We got Lipton and snacks.
We got to work. I found Snack 2, my favorite, dead. That sucked. Since the machine is so old odds are they will not be able to fix it. I'll need to get a new machine.
I also found the coffee machine in full blown shenanigans. [sigh] If we didn't need a repairman before, we sure did now!
Even my label gun!
I did stock what I could, but I mainly focused on programming the bottled vendor. The goal: $1 shelf, three $1.10 shelves, $1 shelf. I couldn't get the shelf programming to work, though.
The repairman walked me through it, enough to program selections. I did that x 45 selections and got it done. It doesn't really matter how I paint the house, as long as I change the color.
Done. I told God, though, I'd give Him the credit.
Then I handwrote labels for the pastry, and stocked them into the working machines. I put out some frozen burritos, too. I helped Ron stock sodas. It was very busy.
Our ride was an hour late, had a ton of incomprehensible excuses, and even said she saw me waving every time she drove past! AGH!
I had one of those "God please put Your words in my mouth 'cause I don't want to shame You" moments. He respected that.
At the end of it all she thought we were nice and even accepted a Bible. I guess I did OK thanks to God.
Finally, home, it's so late everyone's home before us. I know someone next door is going to bed early tonight.
I just hope, HOPE, he has learned that everyone has a different schedule, and it's important for us to respect each other.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Look in the hole
"I'm so tired..."
Sing it to "Fancy" and you've got me.
I got up, depressed. For a change, I skipped the shower and did my God Time. I looked fine, but I knew I'd be too tired to do my God Time when I got home. I had a really long day.
We went to work, and met our repairman, who did some lock magic. He took a cheap lock and installed it into the "Beast" the bottled vendor going back to Austin.
We never wanted the cursed thing to begin with. We were forced into taking it. It has been a terrible headache for over 5 years.
A few examples, the coin mech would never accept coins. Ever. Even if I got it to work they'd start jamming and ripping people off.
We finally had to buy a whole new mech.
We also had a lot of issues with dropped bottles, product not delivering, etc.
I want happy customers. If they're walking away unhappy we have failed them.
I can't emphasize that enough: I live and die on sales. If they aren't shopping with us, we are out in the street. That's one reason I always, personally, thank people when they make a purchase.
Ron laughs at my passion, but he respects it. Sales prove me right.
So, I was very happy when they showed up with the new vending machine. That's right, new.
It was rather surreal, listening to the warehouse guy "arguing" with our boss, because the boss thought "our" machine was a used piece of crap with over $4K in repairs, already!
Nope, "our" machine was a brand new unit. The other vendors have one and they really like it.
At first, I couldn't find the manual. Two other guys couldn't find it either, but I did locate it while stocking. It wasn't terribly helpful.
However, most vending machines are pretty standard. You find the mode button and press that to enter the service menu.
First, you have to find the coin load menu, and enter the mode. Add the coins, as the computer realizes it is getting change. Otherwise it won't work, because it thinks it's empty, even if you filled it.
Yeah. I have to do this every time I add change, on these type machines (including 2 snack machines and both food machines).
Then I have to figure out pricing. In my case I had limited time. It was preset to $1 for the entire machine. We sell 20 ounce bottles of water for $1, so I threw some water at it.
Tomorrow, I will figure out how to program rows (you can program a bottled vendor for whole machine, whole row, or one selection), and program some soda rows. It shouldn't be too bad.
I had trouble installing the lock. Ron and I have a family of locks, all working on the same key. He wanted to use one in the bottled vendor, and handed it over.
Good, but I couldn't get it in there. I prayed about it, then got the bright idea to look in the hole. Sure enough, I found a bent wire in the hole. I took that out. The cylinder installed pretty easily after that, and a little more praying. I couldn't leave the machine open; I HAD to install that lock!
So, leaving, it had some water. The change bank is full. I did a test vend and it worked.
Good. We did way more than that today but that was the significant event.
We went to the bank, made a deposit, I got paid. Ron had loaned the business some money and got paid back.
We went home. I tried to take a nap but that didn't work out. Sometimes a person rides around the neighborhood, playing very loud music. They did that today for a while, keeping me up.
I guess God wants me to get a regular sleep only, tonight.
Sing it to "Fancy" and you've got me.
I got up, depressed. For a change, I skipped the shower and did my God Time. I looked fine, but I knew I'd be too tired to do my God Time when I got home. I had a really long day.
We went to work, and met our repairman, who did some lock magic. He took a cheap lock and installed it into the "Beast" the bottled vendor going back to Austin.
We never wanted the cursed thing to begin with. We were forced into taking it. It has been a terrible headache for over 5 years.
A few examples, the coin mech would never accept coins. Ever. Even if I got it to work they'd start jamming and ripping people off.
We finally had to buy a whole new mech.
We also had a lot of issues with dropped bottles, product not delivering, etc.
I want happy customers. If they're walking away unhappy we have failed them.
I can't emphasize that enough: I live and die on sales. If they aren't shopping with us, we are out in the street. That's one reason I always, personally, thank people when they make a purchase.
Ron laughs at my passion, but he respects it. Sales prove me right.
So, I was very happy when they showed up with the new vending machine. That's right, new.
It was rather surreal, listening to the warehouse guy "arguing" with our boss, because the boss thought "our" machine was a used piece of crap with over $4K in repairs, already!
Nope, "our" machine was a brand new unit. The other vendors have one and they really like it.
At first, I couldn't find the manual. Two other guys couldn't find it either, but I did locate it while stocking. It wasn't terribly helpful.
However, most vending machines are pretty standard. You find the mode button and press that to enter the service menu.
First, you have to find the coin load menu, and enter the mode. Add the coins, as the computer realizes it is getting change. Otherwise it won't work, because it thinks it's empty, even if you filled it.
Yeah. I have to do this every time I add change, on these type machines (including 2 snack machines and both food machines).
Then I have to figure out pricing. In my case I had limited time. It was preset to $1 for the entire machine. We sell 20 ounce bottles of water for $1, so I threw some water at it.
Tomorrow, I will figure out how to program rows (you can program a bottled vendor for whole machine, whole row, or one selection), and program some soda rows. It shouldn't be too bad.
I had trouble installing the lock. Ron and I have a family of locks, all working on the same key. He wanted to use one in the bottled vendor, and handed it over.
Good, but I couldn't get it in there. I prayed about it, then got the bright idea to look in the hole. Sure enough, I found a bent wire in the hole. I took that out. The cylinder installed pretty easily after that, and a little more praying. I couldn't leave the machine open; I HAD to install that lock!
So, leaving, it had some water. The change bank is full. I did a test vend and it worked.
Good. We did way more than that today but that was the significant event.
We went to the bank, made a deposit, I got paid. Ron had loaned the business some money and got paid back.
We went home. I tried to take a nap but that didn't work out. Sometimes a person rides around the neighborhood, playing very loud music. They did that today for a while, keeping me up.
I guess God wants me to get a regular sleep only, tonight.
Monday, October 13, 2014
No sleep, go and do it anyway
I can talk all day about God time and faith.
It doesn't mean a thing if I'm not living it. Example?
The party next door went on until well after 10. I guess they assumed that, since it was a school holiday, everyone had Monday off and could sleep as late as they liked.
I'm sure they weren't thinking about us, having to get up at 2 AM for work. I got up at 1:45 to take my shower, and then Ron took his bath. Our ride came at 3:30. I battled tremendous urges to make noise enough to wake them up next door and let them know we were leaving. I did not. I did like Ron's "air horn" idea, but we wouldn't do that to the innocent neighbors, or even the "bad" ones.
If I'm claiming Jesus I do have to represent him. That's one thing that made me so angry last night: this guy told 2 guys from our church, he was saved, 2 years ago. He's not acting like it, having loud parties late on work nights. He also played games with the volume, turning if off for a couple minutes, then turning it up very loud, then down again... we had to call the police twice.
We worked until well after 10. I had to receive 2 orders and help put away half a pallet of canned soda. We also had a storm front come in, but happily we missed that.
When I got home, both neighbor cars were in the driveway - they had a nice day off, sleeping in. I was tempted, again, to say "We're home from work now, having worked 8 hours on 3 hour's of sleep! How was your night?"
I didn't. I did mutter something about it being nice to sleep in late after having a loud party the night before.
It's funny - most of the time they are very quiet, but when he goes off he goes off! From what I can tell they aren't drinking as much, during the parties. But they are still drinking enough that loud music, 9-10 at night, on a worknight, seems like a really good idea.
Enough about them. I didn't act hatefully, and neither did Ron.
We picked up our friend, who works for the other vendor. He asked me to call ahead of time, if I'm on a ride that's coming to get him. Whenever I call his wife picks up, talks to me for a minute, and passes the phone on to her husband.
I think she may be worried. Trust me, she's got nothing to worry about. My "housekeeping" would give the poor man a heart attack even if I did "steal" him, which I wouldn't.
He's just a nice Christian coworker - I can see Jesus in him. He has a good servant's heart and is always happy to help. He's the one who fixed my label gun.
We got to work stocking, once we arrived at work. I got snacks. Ron did drinks. When sandwiches came, I stocked them. We may lose power in the next couple days, for a while, so I will need to keep an eye on the food machines.
They also decided to move our refrigerator/freezer unit. I think Ron stuck too far out into the hall when he'd fill it. They seem to be moving it a few feet back and off a couple feet to the left, which is great. I was worried it would be way off at the other end of the building.
The boss called me. I find that interesting: management, customers, and the boss all prefer to talk to me, these days. I think it's because I don't react, I just work to make them happy and get it done. Ron tends to be more reactive and volatile - the head injury.
Anyway, the boss is bringing our new-to-us food machine, tomorrow. "I guess we'll take Wednesday off" I replied. I had Ron call our repair guy, who will take out the old lock before the boss shows up. I don't care how he does it as long as the lock is out.
Hopefully the new machine will come with a manual. If not I'll try to round one up, online. I'm pretty good at that.
The other machines were fine. I paid a few refunds. I have a bunch of angry looking palm prints on one of my snack machines - something is hanging up, and people are shaking it loose. I need to know what it is so I can fix it.
I cleaned all the glass fronts when I left, of course.
I fixed the glitchy, rip-off snack machine. If I could get it swapped for an older one I'd do it in a second.
My K-cups are all sold out. I'm glad Ron "let" me sell them. I provide a K-cup, a sugar packet, a creamer packet, and a coffee cup, for 75 cents. It's the same price as a large cup of coffee machine coffee, much better, and far more reliable than the coffee vending machine.
I don't think I need to tell you, never buy coffee from a vending machine. I made up another 30+ cups and stocked them.
Food machines looked good with the drinks, and sandwiches. I saved a sub for the delivery guy, who almost had a stroke pushing the pallet jack up the ramp (he didn't have "the good truck").
Ron teased me about giving away the inventory, but I think he admires that - I try to minister to everyone I meet. Including, and especially, him.
Which is why, when we got home, I took my medication and went to bed. I knew I would be pretty ugly if I didn't.
I had a pretty good nap. I don't know if I hallucinated some noises or they truly existed, but they're gone now and I slept anyway. I'm calling that a win.
Now off to do my God Time, because I was "bad" and didn't do it BEFORE using the computer (my policy).
It doesn't mean a thing if I'm not living it. Example?
The party next door went on until well after 10. I guess they assumed that, since it was a school holiday, everyone had Monday off and could sleep as late as they liked.
I'm sure they weren't thinking about us, having to get up at 2 AM for work. I got up at 1:45 to take my shower, and then Ron took his bath. Our ride came at 3:30. I battled tremendous urges to make noise enough to wake them up next door and let them know we were leaving. I did not. I did like Ron's "air horn" idea, but we wouldn't do that to the innocent neighbors, or even the "bad" ones.
If I'm claiming Jesus I do have to represent him. That's one thing that made me so angry last night: this guy told 2 guys from our church, he was saved, 2 years ago. He's not acting like it, having loud parties late on work nights. He also played games with the volume, turning if off for a couple minutes, then turning it up very loud, then down again... we had to call the police twice.
We worked until well after 10. I had to receive 2 orders and help put away half a pallet of canned soda. We also had a storm front come in, but happily we missed that.
When I got home, both neighbor cars were in the driveway - they had a nice day off, sleeping in. I was tempted, again, to say "We're home from work now, having worked 8 hours on 3 hour's of sleep! How was your night?"
I didn't. I did mutter something about it being nice to sleep in late after having a loud party the night before.
It's funny - most of the time they are very quiet, but when he goes off he goes off! From what I can tell they aren't drinking as much, during the parties. But they are still drinking enough that loud music, 9-10 at night, on a worknight, seems like a really good idea.
Enough about them. I didn't act hatefully, and neither did Ron.
We picked up our friend, who works for the other vendor. He asked me to call ahead of time, if I'm on a ride that's coming to get him. Whenever I call his wife picks up, talks to me for a minute, and passes the phone on to her husband.
I think she may be worried. Trust me, she's got nothing to worry about. My "housekeeping" would give the poor man a heart attack even if I did "steal" him, which I wouldn't.
He's just a nice Christian coworker - I can see Jesus in him. He has a good servant's heart and is always happy to help. He's the one who fixed my label gun.
We got to work stocking, once we arrived at work. I got snacks. Ron did drinks. When sandwiches came, I stocked them. We may lose power in the next couple days, for a while, so I will need to keep an eye on the food machines.
They also decided to move our refrigerator/freezer unit. I think Ron stuck too far out into the hall when he'd fill it. They seem to be moving it a few feet back and off a couple feet to the left, which is great. I was worried it would be way off at the other end of the building.
The boss called me. I find that interesting: management, customers, and the boss all prefer to talk to me, these days. I think it's because I don't react, I just work to make them happy and get it done. Ron tends to be more reactive and volatile - the head injury.
Anyway, the boss is bringing our new-to-us food machine, tomorrow. "I guess we'll take Wednesday off" I replied. I had Ron call our repair guy, who will take out the old lock before the boss shows up. I don't care how he does it as long as the lock is out.
Hopefully the new machine will come with a manual. If not I'll try to round one up, online. I'm pretty good at that.
The other machines were fine. I paid a few refunds. I have a bunch of angry looking palm prints on one of my snack machines - something is hanging up, and people are shaking it loose. I need to know what it is so I can fix it.
I cleaned all the glass fronts when I left, of course.
I fixed the glitchy, rip-off snack machine. If I could get it swapped for an older one I'd do it in a second.
My K-cups are all sold out. I'm glad Ron "let" me sell them. I provide a K-cup, a sugar packet, a creamer packet, and a coffee cup, for 75 cents. It's the same price as a large cup of coffee machine coffee, much better, and far more reliable than the coffee vending machine.
I don't think I need to tell you, never buy coffee from a vending machine. I made up another 30+ cups and stocked them.
Food machines looked good with the drinks, and sandwiches. I saved a sub for the delivery guy, who almost had a stroke pushing the pallet jack up the ramp (he didn't have "the good truck").
Ron teased me about giving away the inventory, but I think he admires that - I try to minister to everyone I meet. Including, and especially, him.
Which is why, when we got home, I took my medication and went to bed. I knew I would be pretty ugly if I didn't.
I had a pretty good nap. I don't know if I hallucinated some noises or they truly existed, but they're gone now and I slept anyway. I'm calling that a win.
Now off to do my God Time, because I was "bad" and didn't do it BEFORE using the computer (my policy).
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