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. 

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