I went to Walmart (just for fun), looked around for a little bit. Ron did need Tylenol and I wanted some Cal-mag-zinc. I got some other things and we headed off to work.
Why working on Christmas eve, evening? The party.
#6 has had some very loud Christmas eve parties. It is apparently a tradition for the ignorant, in Mexico, to have a loud, drunken, all-night party. Let the kids run wild, scream, and cry... yell, wake up the neighbors, keep up the neighbors, play very loud polka music, even though everyone around you is completely silent every day of the year, so YOU can sleep.
If he was gearing up for one, I really didn't want to sit around for it. I'd rather work.
I couldn't work all night, and there was a pretty good chance he wouldn't have a wild party with a newborn in the house, but I braced myself.
When we got home, their car was gone and they didn't come home until very late. They must have attended a party at another family member's house. I think they alternate, which means I should expect a loud party next year.
That's next year. At least I know to expect it. We might just work an all-nighter.
Ron is pretty drunk and wants to talk about my childhood.
Anyway, we got to work, unloaded, and got in the building. The machines were mostly fine. One bottle of water had gotten hung up in the bottle vendor, and Ron had confused 2 soda flavors. I had to undo that. Ron gets very upset if he is presented with evidence he made a "sub-level, stupid" mistake. In fact, recently he screamed "I'm not that stupid" at me.
I just said the sodas "got mixed up" and I had "already fixed them". [shrug] He "went off" for a minute and corked it when one of the customers came over.
We have one lady who will absolutely scream at me, red-faced, over minor issues. I haven't seen her in a while, thank God.
We have another customer, a big jovial guy, who likes to come over, invade our personal space, and mumble irrationally at us. I can't follow his train of thought, or even hear what he's saying half the time. Lately he is rambling about Santa, how he needs a Rudolph, the things he will do with Rudolph, etc. Yelling ho-ho-ho a lot at inappropriate times and making everyone jump (a lot of PTSD veterans at work).
I can't decide if he's schizophrenic, bipolar, or both. He has the high-energy levels consistent with mania, but the schizophrenic "affect" - not in reality, rambling thought processes, etc.
I know this, he needs medication.
I have had to be very rude to him, just to get him to "let" me work and leave me personal space. One time he crowded right up behind me as I stocked a food machine. I had to ask him to move so I could step back and close it. He pretended not to understand. I had to yell at him to go over by the table please so I could work. He got that, but now he thinks I'm a bitch.
I'm OK with that.
That may be some kind of pervert thing in there too, I don't know. Thankfully there's only one of him.
Now, we have plenty of people at work in Santa hats. Elf hats. They have written Christmas greetings on the complaint board and are clearly in the spirit. They act "normally" though.
We have some people at work I'd say are depressives, PTSD, bipolar, and schizophrenic, but they are all functional.
But threatening to file a grievance with the union because you want us to provide pecan pie? Shaking my head.
I told him what we'd have to charge and he shut up on that, right quick.
I was actually happy to see him. He distracted Ron. Ron had forgotten the entire issue by the time he left.
We got everything done, loaded up, and came home to find no party. Yay.
I went to bed about 8. I was pretty excited about getting some sleep.
Until I heard the fireworks. Ugh.
I have mentioned I have PTSD. Years of abuse, plus the trauma of Ron's accident, really flipped my lid. I'm sure the violent mugging in 2009 didn't help either.
I don't do well with sudden loud noises, ever. Loud booms from artillery shells continued to deafen, dazzle, and set off car alarms well into the night. I lay in bed thinking. Even without a party, I still wasn't sleeping.
Eventually the neighbors ran out of money, and supplies, and the noise ceased. I slept very late for me, past 9:30. For once, I wasn't awoken by bad dreams although I was very dehydrated.
I got up and drank a diet Mountain Dew. Ron was still asleep. I took my shower and did my God Time, discovering a sweet spotted Baby Girl in my computer room. What a nice girl.
Torbie came running when I sat down, her fluffy orange belly flapping as she ran. She knows I always distribute a few treats during God Time.
I finished up, treated the girls, and relaxed for a while. Ron was pretty slow waking up, but he did after 1. We opened presents.
Everyone always wants to know what you get.
I got a toy stuffed cat (requested), a book about a rescue cat, a gift card, some accessories. The latter from my very stylish older sister.
She has never been cited by the fashion police, and I am in need of some dress-up items. I have a very basic wardrobe of jeans and t-shirts.
Oh, speaking of clothes, what did Ron get?
I bought him a pair of jeans (black, and a basic brand), and some wool socks. He was very excited about the socks. I gave him some of my wool socks (I wear the men's kind when it's really cold) a few years back and he has worn holes in them.
Torbie immediately took over the jeans, until Ron lured her off with treats. I don't see the appeal for an animal with a sensitive nose, they had a strong "new dye" smell.
When I got them away, I washed them. I don't want those chemicals all over Ron, even though he was happy to wear them.
I'm hearing polkas. Apparently someone's having a party.
I suppose, if we had enough money, I could find the subdivision where they fine people $1000 for having loud music, etc... but we'll find heaven in heaven. Not here.
Mom also sent him a flash drive, and a big jar of cashews (the whole kind!). I just buy the kind in pieces. My adoptive older sister sent a restaurant gift card.
Ron says he'll buy me what I want (within reason I hope), but I can't think of anything offhand.
Speaking of family, my stalker half sister has been sending some messages of late.
After months of blessed silence, she sent one on our mother's birthday. I deleted it.
She sent a group message yesterday to everyone in the phone book (including Ron and me). I deleted them. I deleted all the people who "replied to all".
I didn't read them because that's what stalkers do, they try to engage, and if I'm reading it I'm engaged. My phone, and Ron's, have the ability to delete a message without reading.
Just now she sent us messages, which I also deleted.
I wanted a break, last year. I wanted her to respect my wish for silence, on that break. She did not. That ensured the break would remain permanent.
If she had truly loved and respected me, she would have given me 6 months of "radio silence". Stalking me, for months, said just the opposite.
She does have a therapist and psychologist. I shudder to think....
The guy who helps us with our truck runs thinks I'm a total bitch for "rejecting" her.
God has convicted me on many things in my life. Very uncomfortable. Either I had to walk away from God or I had to change my ways. As far as I know, in every (recent, as in last 12 years) case, I have changed. Some people think I am close to God. I'm not, but if you see God in me it is because I allow God to change me.
God worked on me with forgiving my Dad. Forgiving my Birth Mother. Forgiving my Adoptive mother and her family. Forgiving the policeman who robbed us and said the accident was my fault. He is working on me, forgiving the man who ran over Ron.
He's even worked on me with forgiving Ron, not holding grudges, while holding onto appropriate boundaries. God is ALWAYS working on me!
You know what? I haven't had a speck of conviction to go "reconcile". I sure did regarding all the others. I got hammered with it. Not even a whisper.
I think God agrees; this is one person I need to leave to Him. I hope she gets sorted out. I hope she finds love, and realizes you don't have to operate your life from a position of drama, victimhood, and manipulation.
Screaming at her daughter, the night before her wedding, because she overheard a bit of gossip that (my sister) was "stressed out" (she was)... for minutes on end, playing manipulative, hysterical, guilt trips, sobbing and screaming... ugh. No bride needs that, ever.
On my wedding eve, my adoptive Mom and my aunt were incredibly kind and supportive.
If that's what she learned from our mother I'm glad I barely met the woman (maybe a dozen lunch meetings).
Regarding my birth mother: my aunt is surprisingly supportive of her. "You can't imagine the guilt" she tells me "When she realized you were disabled, it was her fault."
This after my mother was awful to her. I am really blessed with some wonderful Christian role models.
At the end of the day, though, my birthmother disabled me, massively neglected me, and ran out on me when she found out I was disabled. I'm glad she did - reference nasty game playing.
I don't think either woman knew a clean and appropriate way to interact with loved ones.
Ugh. A little more drama than I wanted.
So, it appears #6 is having his party today, instead of last night. God only knows why. Two parties for the price of one.
I do see a lot of strange vehicles out front. Strange people and kids running around. Fine.
Music. I can't do much about that right now.
Some kid coming in my yard without permission, or even knocking on my door, because "I lost my ball"? That's a problem.
I went over there right quick and made if very clear No one has permission to enter my yard. Ever. If it happens again I will call the police and have you charged with trespassing. Your father was told years ago. If you lose a ball I will throw it over the fence tomorrow.
Boy, you might be thinking, that's a little strong.
Not really.
During one of their parties, just like this one, they did this I especially liked the part where their 8 year old was saying we set out to "trick" children (who had absolutely no right to be on the property).
I also had a major problem during their parties, where they left my gate wide open, huge packs of kids "coming to get the ball" (they would intentionally "lose" it by throwing it on the roof of my house so it would roll into the yard. I saw them do it several times.). You can imagine my horror when I found a 3 year old running wild in my yard, unattended. I tried to grab him and take him back home and he ran away giggling. Thank God he didn't get hit by a car.
The kids would come in packs and talk very loudly, scream and yell (at night when we were trying to sleep). I even went out and told one older boy, about 14 "We have to go to work in 4 hours". "I'm sorry" he replied. He looked truly remorseful. I wish he lived there.
Constantly banging the gate, keeping us awake, screaming, running around in our much bigger yard. They weren't coming for a ball, they were coming over to play. I don't feel bad about terminating access. We wanted a house with a big yard, for privacy. We don't want kids and we don't want kids in the yard.
They had no sense of boundaries, or manners. That's a problem, and not to mention a huge liability "But the children had permission, and got hurt!"
So I did this
The father seemed to understand. The kids would come bang on the door now and then for the ball, but I told them this year that was a problem waking Ron up.
Their father rearranged the play area so they would no longer kick the ball onto my property.
Until the party. Apparently a guest threw a ball over the fence (they were up on the trampoline so they had a very good view of the entire yard anyway), and came after it himself. I didn't catch him in the yard but I went by their back gate (not opening it, but I could have, and would have let the yappy guest dog out).
Doesn't #6 set any ground rules? Like "Don't go in that yard, she's a real bitch"?
Manic, I had plenty.
Interestingly enough, since I went over and yelled at them, they have turned the music down. I think they're eating. They also do have the baby.
Sigh. My other neighbors are great. But it's like marriage. You go into it expecting one thing and you end up with something else.
[edit to remove ugly]
I don't think any of the edited would make Jesus smile. I hate feeling powerless; at someone's whim.
I had my privacy violated on a regular basis, growing up. I understand people had various reasons.
However, I tend to be pretty fanatical about my "personal space" as a result.
Enough on that! It's Christmas!
I just realized, my mood is crap.
I got a thing yesterday to help organize the kitchen. I'll go use it and see how that works.
It made room for Ron's new dish drainer. He's been quite eager to get it set up, and I'm manic enough to oblige.
1 comment:
It was a little hard to follow some of the stuff about your birth mother, and your sister, just so you know.
Is your sister a bad person? I had thought that she had dropped out of school to care for you, when you still lived with your birth mother. Of course, that was many years ago.
Your mother seems to have been a carrier for many serious physical and mental health issues. Perhaps your sister has mental illness of her own?
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