Ron did apologize, halfheartedly.
I didn't sleep well Sunday night. Monday morning found me at work, stocking and getting deliveries, in addition to assisting Ron.
Doc's office called, they would see me at 3:15 PM. Now, I love Doc, but he tends to run late.
We had a horrible ride home, going around and around for over an hour, before we finally got home. I barely had time to do my God Time and get a cranberry juice before my cab arrived (I paid for a private cab, to get there). The weather was miserable, too, cold, windy, and overcast.
I got there, paid, and waited. Then I waited some more. Doc is great, but he tends to run behind. He takes as long as it takes, which in my mind is a good thing, but it did make for a very long wait with some very, apparently, contagious people in the waiting room.
Doc and I agree, it is foolish and unsafe to see a doctor for a virus, because the doc generally can't do anything. They tried to give me a flu shot but I told them they put my family in the hospital (both my brother, and sister). We discussed my bladder issues 'I feel like someone's shoving a lit match up my urethra" (and my blood pressure was high, I'm sure from the pain), hydration (very good per the test), etc. He wrote me a prescription for Bactrim, which I can take with no problems.
When finished, I left and took the bus to my Walmart. By the time I got there, they had filled the prescription. I got a few other things, hair ties, more cranberry juice, etc. I tried to focus on high-value protein foods to build my immunity.
Ron called his friend to come pick me up. I had enough time to eat and drink a couple bottles of water before he arrived.
I pretty much went straight to bed. I was up most of the night, in desperate pain and trying to pee.
Today, we had to do truck day. Our inventory was really low. I got enough to hold us for a few days, and so did Ron. I believe he didn't want to make me do a lot of lifting in my condition.
I still had to work, though. That was pretty miserable. I brought a 2 quart cranberry juice and drank that as I worked, then drank water. All told about 2 gallons for the day, and I still have a dry throat.
I wouldn't do well on extreme water rationing.
The cats have been awesome. Torbie is lying partly in front of my screen, I can't see what I'm typing.
I do think that was one of the better things I did, take typing in the 8th grade. I had amy creepy math teacher as the instructor but I did pretty well.
We finished work, I came home, the neighbors were gone, a good chance of getting a nap, which I did. I woke up feeling a lot better. I still feel debilitated but not agonized.
That's it for now.
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Killing off tender feelings
Ron has just been awful today.
First it would be the whole "I would be a terrible father" thing. That was bad enough, depressing enough, on it's own. Then it was the usual belittlement and derogatory comments about my faith when he found out I was doing my God time. I tried my best to turn him out, but the last I heard, he was rolling off down the hall, ranting at God, a large glass of wine in his hand.
On occasion, we watch church on my computer. Good enough, although I have to deal with the drinking and derogatory comments during same. I think he just likes to heckle and drink and "get away with it" while presenting a veneer of respectability.
He went in his room and fell asleep. Good. Finally some peace around here.
His alarm went off, signaling time for church. He cursed and shut it off. Considering his previous mood, the fact he's told me never to wake him up unless the house is on fire, and my continued desire for peace and quiet: I left him alone.
I watched church. While it has some valid points for Ron he wouldn't have accepted them. He woke up, checked the time, and became very angry at me for not waking him up.
I told him all my above reasons (except wanting the peace and quiet) and he just erupted. How dare I make that decision for him? I told him he made the decision himself when he cursed and turned off his alarm. The curse indicated "I am not interested in listening to church today".
He continued to attack me, bringing in everything from my weight, our sex life, and even my parents, saying "They wish you wouldn't call them anymore, and hate it when you do". They don't care about me, he said, because no one does, blah blah blah.
The neighbors had left for a while and I decided to lie down for a bit. I am still pretty painful with the bladder infection. I am drinking literally buckets of water.
Ron continued to harangue, because, after all, he's the center of the universe and he'd better be the center of mine. He finally gave up and "let" me sleep for a while, then shouted loudly that he had forgiven me, and he would keep forgiving me every hour or so. Just playing sleep deprivation games, which equal torture.
When I got up, I told him I was going to call the doctor because I wanted an appointment. He said "Good! I hope it hurts a lot!" Now, sometimes he might pass that off as "humor", but in this case he was serious. He's just being as sick and ugly as he can manage because that's how he thinks a marriage ought to be.
Then he complains I don't love him, I never loved him, etc.
I remember in the early days of our relationship he used to castigate me if I didn't cry enough when he said he wanted to split up.
So I have put up walls, walls, walls. I keep my commitments but it's more a grim sense of duty right now. He does a very good job of killing off tender feelings, one girlfriend tried to kill him twice, and his best friend tried to kill him on another occasion, before running off with Ron's then-girlfriend.
I just want to stop hurting: physically and emotionally.
First it would be the whole "I would be a terrible father" thing. That was bad enough, depressing enough, on it's own. Then it was the usual belittlement and derogatory comments about my faith when he found out I was doing my God time. I tried my best to turn him out, but the last I heard, he was rolling off down the hall, ranting at God, a large glass of wine in his hand.
On occasion, we watch church on my computer. Good enough, although I have to deal with the drinking and derogatory comments during same. I think he just likes to heckle and drink and "get away with it" while presenting a veneer of respectability.
He went in his room and fell asleep. Good. Finally some peace around here.
His alarm went off, signaling time for church. He cursed and shut it off. Considering his previous mood, the fact he's told me never to wake him up unless the house is on fire, and my continued desire for peace and quiet: I left him alone.
I watched church. While it has some valid points for Ron he wouldn't have accepted them. He woke up, checked the time, and became very angry at me for not waking him up.
I told him all my above reasons (except wanting the peace and quiet) and he just erupted. How dare I make that decision for him? I told him he made the decision himself when he cursed and turned off his alarm. The curse indicated "I am not interested in listening to church today".
He continued to attack me, bringing in everything from my weight, our sex life, and even my parents, saying "They wish you wouldn't call them anymore, and hate it when you do". They don't care about me, he said, because no one does, blah blah blah.
The neighbors had left for a while and I decided to lie down for a bit. I am still pretty painful with the bladder infection. I am drinking literally buckets of water.
Ron continued to harangue, because, after all, he's the center of the universe and he'd better be the center of mine. He finally gave up and "let" me sleep for a while, then shouted loudly that he had forgiven me, and he would keep forgiving me every hour or so. Just playing sleep deprivation games, which equal torture.
When I got up, I told him I was going to call the doctor because I wanted an appointment. He said "Good! I hope it hurts a lot!" Now, sometimes he might pass that off as "humor", but in this case he was serious. He's just being as sick and ugly as he can manage because that's how he thinks a marriage ought to be.
Then he complains I don't love him, I never loved him, etc.
I remember in the early days of our relationship he used to castigate me if I didn't cry enough when he said he wanted to split up.
So I have put up walls, walls, walls. I keep my commitments but it's more a grim sense of duty right now. He does a very good job of killing off tender feelings, one girlfriend tried to kill him twice, and his best friend tried to kill him on another occasion, before running off with Ron's then-girlfriend.
I just want to stop hurting: physically and emotionally.
I am accountable
I just had, yet another, very disturbing discussion with Ron. Somehow, he got started on parenting, what might happen if we had kids.
I can't even type out what he said. Someone would find us and give him a beating. The boy is messed up. Messed up. He would make the worst father.
Now, I never wanted kids. I had a bellyful of toddlers working in the church nursery, you have to watch them every minute (9 months to 3 years). Kids would have been nice, in the abstract, if I were normal and had some income producing potential, or a husband that could support me in a stay at home Mom position.
None of that came to pass. As I listened to Ron share his views, my first thought was "You need therapy" and the second "Thank God you never had kids". My third "If I ever get pregnant I am giving it up for adoption".
1. Ron would be a toxic father.
2. I am not equipped for mothering. My illness gets in the way and I can't drive. Not to mention money.
3. I am accountable for God for how I allow my kids to be raised, and I would want them in a wholesome home. Currently Ron is in the back room cursing and mocking God. That, I can talk about. That's not what I want my kids to learn. I want them to love and respect God, to value their relationship with him. I want them to be respected.
Now, you might say, and I have read "Once you put the baby in his arms everything changes. He falls in love and everyone lives happily ever after." I couldn't take a chance on that. Not with what Ron was saying.
As I said, I am accountable.
No, I won't talk about it. As I said, wheelchair nonwithstanding, he would get a beating.
I can't even type out what he said. Someone would find us and give him a beating. The boy is messed up. Messed up. He would make the worst father.
Now, I never wanted kids. I had a bellyful of toddlers working in the church nursery, you have to watch them every minute (9 months to 3 years). Kids would have been nice, in the abstract, if I were normal and had some income producing potential, or a husband that could support me in a stay at home Mom position.
None of that came to pass. As I listened to Ron share his views, my first thought was "You need therapy" and the second "Thank God you never had kids". My third "If I ever get pregnant I am giving it up for adoption".
1. Ron would be a toxic father.
2. I am not equipped for mothering. My illness gets in the way and I can't drive. Not to mention money.
3. I am accountable for God for how I allow my kids to be raised, and I would want them in a wholesome home. Currently Ron is in the back room cursing and mocking God. That, I can talk about. That's not what I want my kids to learn. I want them to love and respect God, to value their relationship with him. I want them to be respected.
Now, you might say, and I have read "Once you put the baby in his arms everything changes. He falls in love and everyone lives happily ever after." I couldn't take a chance on that. Not with what Ron was saying.
As I said, I am accountable.
No, I won't talk about it. As I said, wheelchair nonwithstanding, he would get a beating.
Saturday, December 26, 2015
More excitement
Well, that was interesting.
I really wish Ron had been wrong: "I think" he said "They're going to have another party". He was right.
They moved the trampoline right outside my bedroom, I heard the kids but I didn't have the soccer ball going into the wall, either.
So, screaming kids right outside the bedroom for 4 hours or so. Adults sitting around, laughing, for another hour. Then loud polka music as everyone left. We called the police on that one.
I pray this is not a pattern of more parties, they had 3 just this month. One may have been the husband/father's birthday party.
We have severe weather inbound tonight/tomorrow so that should help a lot. We are also getting a dramatic cold front. So, if nothing else, I ought to be able to get a nap on Monday.
Today, just like yesterday, I woke up at 6 AM. My body informed me it would not be going back to sleep, and I have that borderline bladder infection thing, it's better but I still wanted cranberry juice and "Pyridium" (name brand for a urinary anesthetic).
I got up, did my God Time, took my shower (not quite as awful today), and we went to Walmart. I found a kiddie cart. I had a fun time pushing Ron around. I got him some batteries and personal supplies, I got myself the aforementioned bladder things, cat food, and some cleaning supplies.
The cranberry juice (happily on sale) made for some heavy bags, but I got it all into the house in one trip.
Ron's been gossiping about his book. I'm not really interested but it makes him happy to talk about it. This one is a pretty standard romance novel. "Teen sweethearts grow up".
I dated a couple of guys in High School:
One became a captain (last I heard) in the Air Force
One was homeless for years, and probably addicted.
One schizophrenic burned down his parents' house.
While I certainly wish the first guy well in his career, and pray he is truly happy in love, I don't care to find the others.
The first guy was a sweetie. He sent me a truly lovely secret admirer note "You look at the inside of a person" etc. I never knew who sent it, it took him nearly a year to tell me.
I'm glad we didn't get too involved because I wasn't exactly stable. I knew that. I did "dump" him but in the long run I'm sure he'd feel I did him a favor, especially if "he knew" (I was crazy).
The second guy said all the right things, tried to be very supportive, etc. But he was selfish and immature at a very basic level and I could never take it very far with him.
The third guy, I was manic. I "got" him to dump me by pitching a fit about him smoking. I always felt like I dodged a bullet, really did when I found out he burned his parents' house down. I was in a second floor bedroom and my parents didn't believe in fire escape ladders. They probably worried I would use it to sneak out.
And see who? I just shared my whole love life. Until I met Ron at age 17, that is. I snuck out for him, although I couldn't really see him at night. The bus routes didn't really run late in our neighborhoods.
[snort] We figured it out.
I can't regret my actions back then. I had an untenable home situation that would not improve when I turned 18. I had sabotage issues. My Dad had made it clear I couldn't live with him and see Ron.
I love Ron: I wanted to see him. So, the day after I turned 18 I moved in with him. I didn't give my family any contact information for months, and even after we were on better terms I never let Dad into any of my residences. Not, at least, until we moved to Texas.
In Texas, for a modest amount of money, one can rent a fine apartment with dishwasher, microwave, fireplace, and other nice amenities, for, back then, about $500 a month. That one was all bills paid.
The duplex had 2 bedrooms, but was run by a slumlord leasing company.
Apartment #1 had all bills paid, a nice brick wall in the front room, a ton of swimming pools, and a huge bedroom.
Apartment #2 also had a slumlord leasing company, but I liked living on the 3rd floor (generally).
All apartments had huge, walk-in closets too. Most of the apartments were pretty quiet, if someone got out of line with a crazy party the management would have a talk with them. Generally.
Someone like #6 would have been evicted. I do wonder what he thinks about the neighbors 'They can sleep in, like we do"? "They didn't rake their leaves so it is OK to do this?" I don't know.
Speaking of leaves, whatever's left is going to be coming down off my tree. We have some pretty vigorous dry gusts outside.
I'm not sure when we get the rain but we are being quoted 100% chance for tomorrow. A good day to stay home, dare I say, catch up on my sleep?
I feel pretty good, considering. I just drank the better part of two quarts cranberry juice, after the rest of the fluid I consumed earlier. I have the Azo if I need it, and I can see the doc if I have to.
Ron and I are going out for a fast-food dinner tonight. I pray it remains dry.
Lord, I could really use a good nights sleep. You are doing a great job keeping me going in spite of everything, but I could really use some good sleep at night for a while now. Please continue to protect my siding from next door depradations. This, of course, in addition to all the stuff I usually pray everyday.
Thank you.
I really wish Ron had been wrong: "I think" he said "They're going to have another party". He was right.
They moved the trampoline right outside my bedroom, I heard the kids but I didn't have the soccer ball going into the wall, either.
So, screaming kids right outside the bedroom for 4 hours or so. Adults sitting around, laughing, for another hour. Then loud polka music as everyone left. We called the police on that one.
I pray this is not a pattern of more parties, they had 3 just this month. One may have been the husband/father's birthday party.
We have severe weather inbound tonight/tomorrow so that should help a lot. We are also getting a dramatic cold front. So, if nothing else, I ought to be able to get a nap on Monday.
Today, just like yesterday, I woke up at 6 AM. My body informed me it would not be going back to sleep, and I have that borderline bladder infection thing, it's better but I still wanted cranberry juice and "Pyridium" (name brand for a urinary anesthetic).
I got up, did my God Time, took my shower (not quite as awful today), and we went to Walmart. I found a kiddie cart. I had a fun time pushing Ron around. I got him some batteries and personal supplies, I got myself the aforementioned bladder things, cat food, and some cleaning supplies.
The cranberry juice (happily on sale) made for some heavy bags, but I got it all into the house in one trip.
Ron's been gossiping about his book. I'm not really interested but it makes him happy to talk about it. This one is a pretty standard romance novel. "Teen sweethearts grow up".
I dated a couple of guys in High School:
One became a captain (last I heard) in the Air Force
One was homeless for years, and probably addicted.
One schizophrenic burned down his parents' house.
While I certainly wish the first guy well in his career, and pray he is truly happy in love, I don't care to find the others.
The first guy was a sweetie. He sent me a truly lovely secret admirer note "You look at the inside of a person" etc. I never knew who sent it, it took him nearly a year to tell me.
I'm glad we didn't get too involved because I wasn't exactly stable. I knew that. I did "dump" him but in the long run I'm sure he'd feel I did him a favor, especially if "he knew" (I was crazy).
The second guy said all the right things, tried to be very supportive, etc. But he was selfish and immature at a very basic level and I could never take it very far with him.
The third guy, I was manic. I "got" him to dump me by pitching a fit about him smoking. I always felt like I dodged a bullet, really did when I found out he burned his parents' house down. I was in a second floor bedroom and my parents didn't believe in fire escape ladders. They probably worried I would use it to sneak out.
And see who? I just shared my whole love life. Until I met Ron at age 17, that is. I snuck out for him, although I couldn't really see him at night. The bus routes didn't really run late in our neighborhoods.
[snort] We figured it out.
I can't regret my actions back then. I had an untenable home situation that would not improve when I turned 18. I had sabotage issues. My Dad had made it clear I couldn't live with him and see Ron.
I love Ron: I wanted to see him. So, the day after I turned 18 I moved in with him. I didn't give my family any contact information for months, and even after we were on better terms I never let Dad into any of my residences. Not, at least, until we moved to Texas.
In Texas, for a modest amount of money, one can rent a fine apartment with dishwasher, microwave, fireplace, and other nice amenities, for, back then, about $500 a month. That one was all bills paid.
The duplex had 2 bedrooms, but was run by a slumlord leasing company.
Apartment #1 had all bills paid, a nice brick wall in the front room, a ton of swimming pools, and a huge bedroom.
Apartment #2 also had a slumlord leasing company, but I liked living on the 3rd floor (generally).
All apartments had huge, walk-in closets too. Most of the apartments were pretty quiet, if someone got out of line with a crazy party the management would have a talk with them. Generally.
Someone like #6 would have been evicted. I do wonder what he thinks about the neighbors 'They can sleep in, like we do"? "They didn't rake their leaves so it is OK to do this?" I don't know.
Speaking of leaves, whatever's left is going to be coming down off my tree. We have some pretty vigorous dry gusts outside.
I'm not sure when we get the rain but we are being quoted 100% chance for tomorrow. A good day to stay home, dare I say, catch up on my sleep?
I feel pretty good, considering. I just drank the better part of two quarts cranberry juice, after the rest of the fluid I consumed earlier. I have the Azo if I need it, and I can see the doc if I have to.
Ron and I are going out for a fast-food dinner tonight. I pray it remains dry.
Lord, I could really use a good nights sleep. You are doing a great job keeping me going in spite of everything, but I could really use some good sleep at night for a while now. Please continue to protect my siding from next door depradations. This, of course, in addition to all the stuff I usually pray everyday.
Thank you.
Friday, December 25, 2015
Good Quality of sleep.
I could take a couple different tones. I could take a positive, negative, neutral, Bible-thumping, or frustrated tone.
First, allow me to wish you a Merry Christmas.
God gave me a good quality of sleep last night. I woke up feeling pretty energized, amazing, considering.
They started the party at 8, and it went until 1 AM. The cleanup (complete with Spanish music played at some volume) took another hour. My earplugs muffled most of that.
If we lived in one of the haughty neighborhoods he would be in big trouble, not just for the party, but the conglomeration of pop-up awnings, covered with black plastic sheeting. It looks like a refugee camp. A few residents cover their back patio with tarps in the winter, but nothing like this. It looks terrible. We do have some serious rain forecast Sunday, it will be interesting to see if they withstand "real" weather.
I lay on my fold-out mattress on the computer room floor, very uncomfortable, listening to streaming Christian music on my computer. I hope that doesn't run up the internet bill. I was at least lying down flat and I couldn't hear everything.
I can't sleep in my bedroom during one of their parties, it is way too loud and they occasionally bounce the soccer ball off my bedroom wall. Or bounce themselves.
This time they seemed to keep the ball play to a minimum. Everyone seemed to be hidden in the plastic refugee tents.
Yes, we had some rain forecast, but not a high percentage. It was also pretty warm (nearly 80 degrees today). I don't know why they were hiding but it did seem to contain the mayhem, somewhat.
Ron slept through nearly the whole thing. He said he was awakened by the odd scream but he couldn't hear most of it.
Oh, and halfway through the party, they had church, then went back to the party. I don't think they drank alcohol.
I didn't call the police, even though they ran very late, because they didn't wake Ron. If they had, I would have. Not to mention, they don't care. It's all "Oh, we're so sorry, Officer" and the minute he goes away they're loud again.
A lot of people, apparently, fire off firecrackers at midnight on Christmas Eve. Maybe it's a Mexican thing, or a Texan. It doesn't matter. They watched the show, I could hear them making admiring noises.
I stopped doing fireworks after I saw how much it bothered Bubba, a couple years ago. He was very distressed, so I don't do them anymore. I don't want to upset any creature that much.
Up to that point, Ron and I spent maybe $50 total at the Fourth of July, and New Years.
Sorry, fireworks guys. Family first. I am glad no one directly near us is interested in fireworks. One time #2 (a different family) got very drunk and set off fireworks in the street - some serious ordnance. Ron and I didn't breathe easy until they were done.
It is funny for me to think how badly #6 would do in a rental situation. They would chafe at the rules and restrictions. He is used to having his own little corner of the universe and running it the way he wants, to hell with the neighbors. One or two visits from an irate landlord would set him straight.
Or maybe not.
There are areas of Houston that would fit him well. Sometimes I mutter "Why don't you go live on Airline?" when they are particularly low-class. [shrug] But he wants the nice neighborhood, and the parties.
For now he gets both. Funny thing, I'm sure he thinks he is a really good neighbor, too.
Enough about him. I could tell I was (am) fighting a bladder infection, so I tried to drink as much water as possible. I am really hoping to avoid a doctor visit. I have had about 2 gallons today.
Oh, my menu: homemade zucchini bread from my aunt for breakfast, leftover pizza for lunch, the top of a cream pie (the whipped cream part, not the custard), for dessert. I figure the custard is probably expired, but the whipped cream should be fine.
I'll find out!
Ron ate himself sick on cashews and red wine. Really, it's kind of amazing to think he only had rectal bleeding (which has improved since he drastically reduced his whisky intake). The way he eats you'd expect something worse. And he has a ton of really healthy stuff just waiting in the fridge.
I'm pretty tired (not surprising, but I popped right out of bed at 6:30 AM with no problem), so I plan to go to bed early.
First, allow me to wish you a Merry Christmas.
God gave me a good quality of sleep last night. I woke up feeling pretty energized, amazing, considering.
They started the party at 8, and it went until 1 AM. The cleanup (complete with Spanish music played at some volume) took another hour. My earplugs muffled most of that.
If we lived in one of the haughty neighborhoods he would be in big trouble, not just for the party, but the conglomeration of pop-up awnings, covered with black plastic sheeting. It looks like a refugee camp. A few residents cover their back patio with tarps in the winter, but nothing like this. It looks terrible. We do have some serious rain forecast Sunday, it will be interesting to see if they withstand "real" weather.
I lay on my fold-out mattress on the computer room floor, very uncomfortable, listening to streaming Christian music on my computer. I hope that doesn't run up the internet bill. I was at least lying down flat and I couldn't hear everything.
I can't sleep in my bedroom during one of their parties, it is way too loud and they occasionally bounce the soccer ball off my bedroom wall. Or bounce themselves.
This time they seemed to keep the ball play to a minimum. Everyone seemed to be hidden in the plastic refugee tents.
Yes, we had some rain forecast, but not a high percentage. It was also pretty warm (nearly 80 degrees today). I don't know why they were hiding but it did seem to contain the mayhem, somewhat.
Ron slept through nearly the whole thing. He said he was awakened by the odd scream but he couldn't hear most of it.
Oh, and halfway through the party, they had church, then went back to the party. I don't think they drank alcohol.
I didn't call the police, even though they ran very late, because they didn't wake Ron. If they had, I would have. Not to mention, they don't care. It's all "Oh, we're so sorry, Officer" and the minute he goes away they're loud again.
A lot of people, apparently, fire off firecrackers at midnight on Christmas Eve. Maybe it's a Mexican thing, or a Texan. It doesn't matter. They watched the show, I could hear them making admiring noises.
I stopped doing fireworks after I saw how much it bothered Bubba, a couple years ago. He was very distressed, so I don't do them anymore. I don't want to upset any creature that much.
Up to that point, Ron and I spent maybe $50 total at the Fourth of July, and New Years.
Sorry, fireworks guys. Family first. I am glad no one directly near us is interested in fireworks. One time #2 (a different family) got very drunk and set off fireworks in the street - some serious ordnance. Ron and I didn't breathe easy until they were done.
It is funny for me to think how badly #6 would do in a rental situation. They would chafe at the rules and restrictions. He is used to having his own little corner of the universe and running it the way he wants, to hell with the neighbors. One or two visits from an irate landlord would set him straight.
Or maybe not.
There are areas of Houston that would fit him well. Sometimes I mutter "Why don't you go live on Airline?" when they are particularly low-class. [shrug] But he wants the nice neighborhood, and the parties.
For now he gets both. Funny thing, I'm sure he thinks he is a really good neighbor, too.
Enough about him. I could tell I was (am) fighting a bladder infection, so I tried to drink as much water as possible. I am really hoping to avoid a doctor visit. I have had about 2 gallons today.
Oh, my menu: homemade zucchini bread from my aunt for breakfast, leftover pizza for lunch, the top of a cream pie (the whipped cream part, not the custard), for dessert. I figure the custard is probably expired, but the whipped cream should be fine.
I'll find out!
Ron ate himself sick on cashews and red wine. Really, it's kind of amazing to think he only had rectal bleeding (which has improved since he drastically reduced his whisky intake). The way he eats you'd expect something worse. And he has a ton of really healthy stuff just waiting in the fridge.
I'm pretty tired (not surprising, but I popped right out of bed at 6:30 AM with no problem), so I plan to go to bed early.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
Blown out
So, today I donned one of my new padded bras (sad! That a man nearly 70 years old!), one of my performance t-shirts (generic brand), and jeans, and off to the warehouse.
We didn't know how sales had been. If "we" could drive, "we" would have gone to work first, had a look, and then gone to the warehouse. Non-driving, we had to just go to the warehouse.
Things had been pretty dead so we shopped accordingly. Imagine my surprise when I got back to "Blown out" (stealing the term from the other vendors) vending machines! I was pretty busy stocking there, for a good while.
The bra was pretty "invisible" to me, but I think the band is a little big. I will try on another in the smaller size and see if I like it better. It did the job, that's all that matters, and if the guy was staring again he didn't get to see anything.
I just automatically assume all men are decent; all women are conniving backstabbers. That's been my life experience, to some degree. I do have a few women friends now. That was pretty huge for me.
I was busy stocking and helping Ron. You can imagine my horror when Ron accidentally dumped about a quart of change onto the floor. It was an accident, the door got stuck and when Ron shoved it the coin bucket tipped over. I spent a while picking it up. It's been my experience, the broom and dustpan didn't work, but one of my favorite customers came along and helped us. We gave him a couple free drinks.
I told Ron my theory on what had happened so he can prevent it in the future. I also paid some refunds. I don't know why people lie about when something happened. I know when I had problems. It doesn't matter if it happened a month ago, I will still pay the refund, but they always want to act like it just happened. I don't get that, but I just pay up and say I'm sorry, let them know the problem's been fixed.
I also made a lot of change. When I tried to give Ron the money he told me to keep it. Whoot! $40. I accept.
"Tipping is appreciated".
We went outside and our driver was in the wrong area. I got pretty frustrated and said something I shouldn't have, but only Ron, God, and I heard it. I am sorry and I told God. Ron called and got it sorted out.
I found out she had that dispatcher, the one everyone hates. That made a lot of sense. He is not known for leaping to assist his drivers when they have a question.
We went home and I found the neighbor preparing for his party. Oh. I had really hoped he might not do it this year. He just had that fiasco a couple weeks ago. [groan] I tried to get a nap and did get a little sleep, but not much.
Ron suggested I unfold the pull-out. I did. Torbie is so excited. Like Bubba, she is sleeping in a little nook. I tried to get some sleep but I have the light on. It is hard to get off the floor (the mattress unfolds on the floor), so I need some light.
I just don't see how someone who claims to be born again can have drunken parties. I mean, these people get slobberingly drunk. He has a huge ice chest full of drinks, and I'm sure mostly alcohol. He may also be teaching the kids to drink (by example, and availability).
I know a story of one young teenager who used to drink wine during the parental Christmas party (without parental knowledge or permission). Not me. I have always detested alcohol. But it happens, especially when parents are drunk and inattentive.
The Bible says, don't be drunk. Type "drunk" or "drink" into Bible Gateway and see what you find. 64, and 348 references, respectively. The Bible also talks about drunken parties, in particular. Don't have them. Look up "revelries" in the New King James version.
I wouldn't care if he were unreached; but if you claim to be born again you are held to a higher standard. Your kids banging on my door at 10 PM at night, when all my lights are off, because you lose your ball....pretty unreasonable. No, I didn't open it. I have most of the lights off so hopefully they will assume we are gone, or asleep.
My aunt swears his church is a good one, but I don't see any improvement. He's worse, if anything. Now, you want to see some real Christians? My aunt and uncle. If Ron has a blackout in the middle of the night and is potentially physically abusive, they're my number. They have come right over, 3 times I think, and whisked me off to their house. They were very nice and supportive.
Now, I have to admit, I hate alcohol and don't respect people who use it. My mother was an alcoholic, and damaged me with it. My husband is an alcoholic, and has damaged me with it. The last thing I want are more drunks running around on the periphery of my life.
Anyway, I will endure tonight and get all the sleep I can, in the morning. Bad weather is coming, and cold, too. So next week should be pretty quiet next door (please?) and I should be able to get back to a regular sleep schedule.
Ron's awake now, he had a good long nap. Good.
My bladder's been a little weird so I am drinking a lot of water to stave off any possible problems.
It is funny, I already know all my presents. My friend (a woman, even!) at work gave me a cute outfit. She has a good feel for my style and size. My aunt and uncle gave me some delicious home baked goods and some other items. Mom sent me a Walmart gift card (she couldn't get my performance t's in time). Ron bought me plumbing. Eeek.
Ron got new plumbing (!), sausage balls from my aunt, and some other goodies from Mom. Namely, a flash drive and some kind of nut (he hasn't opened it yet, but I didn't tell him of course). I have been encouraging Ron to back up all his data. We have all the books for the business, going back over a decade, and all Ron's music besides. Quite a bit. He doesn't have any photos of course. :p
Ron did not wreck his back, again, wrestling with the bill changer the other day but he did pull a quadriceps muscle in his leg. Then he did some drunk eating on a large can of cashews, so he's a little queasy.
We're going to get through this. On the plus side, anxiety has been way better. So's the depression. Certain things - like taking a shower, just suck but maybe they do for everyone. It's not the shower enclosure. I have the nicest shower enclosure I have seen. I just hate the act of bathing every day, yet I repeat it every day like some mindless obsession.
I think that's why God lets me have the skin infections. He knows I will shower just to keep those things away.
We didn't know how sales had been. If "we" could drive, "we" would have gone to work first, had a look, and then gone to the warehouse. Non-driving, we had to just go to the warehouse.
Things had been pretty dead so we shopped accordingly. Imagine my surprise when I got back to "Blown out" (stealing the term from the other vendors) vending machines! I was pretty busy stocking there, for a good while.
The bra was pretty "invisible" to me, but I think the band is a little big. I will try on another in the smaller size and see if I like it better. It did the job, that's all that matters, and if the guy was staring again he didn't get to see anything.
I just automatically assume all men are decent; all women are conniving backstabbers. That's been my life experience, to some degree. I do have a few women friends now. That was pretty huge for me.
I was busy stocking and helping Ron. You can imagine my horror when Ron accidentally dumped about a quart of change onto the floor. It was an accident, the door got stuck and when Ron shoved it the coin bucket tipped over. I spent a while picking it up. It's been my experience, the broom and dustpan didn't work, but one of my favorite customers came along and helped us. We gave him a couple free drinks.
I told Ron my theory on what had happened so he can prevent it in the future. I also paid some refunds. I don't know why people lie about when something happened. I know when I had problems. It doesn't matter if it happened a month ago, I will still pay the refund, but they always want to act like it just happened. I don't get that, but I just pay up and say I'm sorry, let them know the problem's been fixed.
I also made a lot of change. When I tried to give Ron the money he told me to keep it. Whoot! $40. I accept.
"Tipping is appreciated".
We went outside and our driver was in the wrong area. I got pretty frustrated and said something I shouldn't have, but only Ron, God, and I heard it. I am sorry and I told God. Ron called and got it sorted out.
I found out she had that dispatcher, the one everyone hates. That made a lot of sense. He is not known for leaping to assist his drivers when they have a question.
We went home and I found the neighbor preparing for his party. Oh. I had really hoped he might not do it this year. He just had that fiasco a couple weeks ago. [groan] I tried to get a nap and did get a little sleep, but not much.
Ron suggested I unfold the pull-out. I did. Torbie is so excited. Like Bubba, she is sleeping in a little nook. I tried to get some sleep but I have the light on. It is hard to get off the floor (the mattress unfolds on the floor), so I need some light.
I just don't see how someone who claims to be born again can have drunken parties. I mean, these people get slobberingly drunk. He has a huge ice chest full of drinks, and I'm sure mostly alcohol. He may also be teaching the kids to drink (by example, and availability).
I know a story of one young teenager who used to drink wine during the parental Christmas party (without parental knowledge or permission). Not me. I have always detested alcohol. But it happens, especially when parents are drunk and inattentive.
The Bible says, don't be drunk. Type "drunk" or "drink" into Bible Gateway and see what you find. 64, and 348 references, respectively. The Bible also talks about drunken parties, in particular. Don't have them. Look up "revelries" in the New King James version.
I wouldn't care if he were unreached; but if you claim to be born again you are held to a higher standard. Your kids banging on my door at 10 PM at night, when all my lights are off, because you lose your ball....pretty unreasonable. No, I didn't open it. I have most of the lights off so hopefully they will assume we are gone, or asleep.
My aunt swears his church is a good one, but I don't see any improvement. He's worse, if anything. Now, you want to see some real Christians? My aunt and uncle. If Ron has a blackout in the middle of the night and is potentially physically abusive, they're my number. They have come right over, 3 times I think, and whisked me off to their house. They were very nice and supportive.
Now, I have to admit, I hate alcohol and don't respect people who use it. My mother was an alcoholic, and damaged me with it. My husband is an alcoholic, and has damaged me with it. The last thing I want are more drunks running around on the periphery of my life.
Anyway, I will endure tonight and get all the sleep I can, in the morning. Bad weather is coming, and cold, too. So next week should be pretty quiet next door (please?) and I should be able to get back to a regular sleep schedule.
Ron's awake now, he had a good long nap. Good.
My bladder's been a little weird so I am drinking a lot of water to stave off any possible problems.
It is funny, I already know all my presents. My friend (a woman, even!) at work gave me a cute outfit. She has a good feel for my style and size. My aunt and uncle gave me some delicious home baked goods and some other items. Mom sent me a Walmart gift card (she couldn't get my performance t's in time). Ron bought me plumbing. Eeek.
Ron got new plumbing (!), sausage balls from my aunt, and some other goodies from Mom. Namely, a flash drive and some kind of nut (he hasn't opened it yet, but I didn't tell him of course). I have been encouraging Ron to back up all his data. We have all the books for the business, going back over a decade, and all Ron's music besides. Quite a bit. He doesn't have any photos of course. :p
Ron did not wreck his back, again, wrestling with the bill changer the other day but he did pull a quadriceps muscle in his leg. Then he did some drunk eating on a large can of cashews, so he's a little queasy.
We're going to get through this. On the plus side, anxiety has been way better. So's the depression. Certain things - like taking a shower, just suck but maybe they do for everyone. It's not the shower enclosure. I have the nicest shower enclosure I have seen. I just hate the act of bathing every day, yet I repeat it every day like some mindless obsession.
I think that's why God lets me have the skin infections. He knows I will shower just to keep those things away.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Apple cart
Gotta love the insurance company:
"
"
Hello Heather,
Thank you for providing proof of fascia repaired. The non-renewal has been removed. The policy is active.
We do notice that window appears to be damaged. Please confirm it’s not damaged. "
[quiet scream]
So, I did. Hm. Now everything's blue. Oh, well.
I slept OK, woke up, shower and God time, off to see Doc. We agreed that, in spite of everything, none of the events of the last 3 months had upset the apple cart, and that was a very good thing.
Hey, I fixed it. Then we met my aunt and uncle for lunch.
I had woken with a nasty headache, which finally abated a little before I saw Doc, but I didn't get my appetite back until we were actually at the restaurant.
Feeling slightly daring, no doubt from my profligate use of caffeinated headache pills (usage approved by Doc), I ordered the chicken strips. Normally, chicken strips plus my medication equal misery.
However, I was OK, probably because I had French fries in addition to the strips. I gave Ron the corn on the cob. My aunt and uncle had lunch specials, and so did Ron.
We exchanged gifts, and she gave us a ride home, which we really appreciated. I will always accept a ride home (if I know you!).
We got home, the neighbors were gone, and I got a short nap. I was pretty happy about that, as my meds had hit me pretty hard today (no doubt also related to those over the counter headache pills).
Ron wanted a new belt. He wanted to go to Walmart and get one.
We are doing a supply run tomorrow, and I don't want that guy staring at my chest again. I wanted at least one, padded, bra, something I could actually move 40 cases of bottled drinks, while wearing.
Ron called him (!) and we went. I left the guys in the men's department while I looked at bras. I hated looking in a rush, but I didn't want to go in just my plain bra tomorrow. I found two likely candidates. I have worn one before and it was very nice. I actually had it in my hospital bag (but the size is wrong now).
The other one is Fruit of the Loom. I have had good success with their products so I felt OK. It appeared, at checkout, to be sized too large but when I tried it on at home it fit fine. It's, they're, in the washer now. The other one was a little smaller than I wear but my band size has been a little loose, so I felt OK doing that.
And, I was right. I got one in purple and one in pink.
Now, if you asked me my favorite color I would have a hard time telling you. I like a lot of colors. I am not, as a rule, fond of pastels but I do like a little soft pink now and then. I'm not a big fan of neons, either, unlike my teens. I live in an orange house and sleep in a curry painted bedroom.
I never painted any other rooms of the house, though, although I have a lot of turquoise in the front room, and fall colors here in the computer room/study. As I said, I like color.
You can assess my mood pretty well by what color I'm wearing, if it's black or a neutral I am depressed. Navy, in particular, indicates a pretty bad depression. Brighter colors indicate an average to manic mood state.
Today I am wearing a mauve top with my black jeans. I prefer bootcut, but the classic fit are OK too. I'm not real fond of skinny jeans, being that I am larger and do heavy manual labor. I need comfortable clothes, not necessarily "cute" or "fashionable" ones.
Classic fit or bootcut. I don't like the low rise waist either.
I wear a lot of t-shirts and quarter crew socks. I am usually found in my medium gray work sneakers, steel toe, leather upper, slip resistant. If I'm not in them I am usually in my flip flops.
I have some cheap sneakers I wear for the Bible Handouts. I attend a "casual dress" church, so whatever I wear is OK, but I have some medium-fancy sandals (which I wore today). I don't like to wear them, seeing how I'm married to a blind man and he has a tendency to step on my feet. That's why I wear the steel toes.
Ron ran over my foot once, with his wheelchair, after I had already broken a toe. That pretty much clinched the need for steel toes at work. They are casual enough to wear the rest of the time, too. I got them at Walmart.
We had a pretty easy checkout, considering. The cashier was very sweet.
I bought plenty of Diet Mountain Dew to keep my engine running the next couple days. #6 may "have church" tonight. Secretly, I hope they have church tomorrow night instead of having the drunken party. Maybe that's why they had the party a couple weeks ago. I would rather listen to a sermon.
We'll see. Whatever happens, happens. I just hope it is calm tomorrow.
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Finally
Last night I had one of my departure dreams. In the dream, I'm either checking out of a hotel (last night), going to the airport, or actually getting ready to board my transit to somewhere else. I often think the departure represents the rapture.
God knows the times are here, all the signs are present - Christians are being persecuted, signs and wonders, etc. Read Matthew 24 for more.
Anyway, I was pretty well rested, as rested as I get. I got my shower and my God Time. Ron shut the laundry room door as we left.
We went to work. I was annoyed - the driver had strapped Ron's walker into place, halfway back in the van. The van seats about 10 ambulatory passengers and a couple of wheelchairs. We picked up a very large man who kept grabbing onto Ron's walker as he moved around the vehicle.
1. Touching a mobility device is like touching a person. And should have the same social conventions. "I'm sorry" at the least for grabbing it.
2. This guy was massive, and the walker is only rated for 200 pounds. He easily could have broken it, lunging at it and shoving it around as he panted. I'm sorry you have these health problems, but if you need a walker you need your own walker. I'm sure he has Medicaid, Medicaid will pay for adaptive equipment. Please leave Ron's alone, he bought it with his own money.
I said something to the driver after he disembarked, grabbing and lunging at the walker again. Although I doubt anything will beat the guy in the wheelchair with huge scabs all over one arm, who decided to scratch by rubbing his scabby arm all over Ron's wheelchair. Thank God we were going home. I refused to let the driver or Ron touch the wheelchair until I gave it a cleaning with the disinfecting wipes and Lysol.
Nasty.
That's the other thing, you don't know what diseases someone may have; and a lot of stuff is communicated by body fluids, like the sweat you're getting all over those handlebars. [shudder]
So, work was pretty dead. The bill changer wasn't working. I kept telling Ron I thought it had eaten a bill but he wouldn't listen. When he did, it had, and we saved a service call, getting our #1 bill changer back into production.
No, I didn't crow.
So. We went out and Ron lectured me about the driver yesterday, saying he "Didn't appreciate" me telling him to stop.
"Ron" I told him "I had a migraine. You were shouting. Do you really want to shout in my ear when I have a migraine? That's who I married?" He got very quiet for a while, then started up with the "Maybe you should stop taking your medication" routine again.
As bad as I find life in my head, it would be a lot worse if I went off medication. Not just for me, but for everyone around me. I told him.
I also reminded him that I impact drivers and customers if nothing else, and if we want good relations with both I had better keep taking my medication.
I didn't bother to tell him this, but the migraines aren't just due to medication. I got about 3 a month before my diagnosis. When I had good health insurance, the vomiting would get so bad I used to go to the ER and get IV's to rehydrate, .
It's not like that, now.
It's just chronic, persistent, headaches with an occasional whopper. I'm battling a minor headache now.
We came home. We had to have the handyman out, again, to fix another thing the insurance company didn't like. Sigh. As if we haven't already spent enough this week.
When we got home, I heard Biscuit screaming in the laundry room. Ron had locked him in. Ron, rightly, felt terrible about that. I think Biscuit is done with the laundry room now. I was teasing him, holding the door open and inviting him to explore, and he gave me a speaking look as he stalked off.
I didn't get a nap. I did get a pizza, and had that with my medication. My pie is a coconut cream. It doesn't agree with Ron but I liked it, lots of whipped cream on top.
I can see why House of Pies is so popular.
The handyman is here, working on the trim. I will take a photo and send it to the insurance company, and we will be done for 6 months or so. Finally.
God knows the times are here, all the signs are present - Christians are being persecuted, signs and wonders, etc. Read Matthew 24 for more.
Anyway, I was pretty well rested, as rested as I get. I got my shower and my God Time. Ron shut the laundry room door as we left.
We went to work. I was annoyed - the driver had strapped Ron's walker into place, halfway back in the van. The van seats about 10 ambulatory passengers and a couple of wheelchairs. We picked up a very large man who kept grabbing onto Ron's walker as he moved around the vehicle.
1. Touching a mobility device is like touching a person. And should have the same social conventions. "I'm sorry" at the least for grabbing it.
2. This guy was massive, and the walker is only rated for 200 pounds. He easily could have broken it, lunging at it and shoving it around as he panted. I'm sorry you have these health problems, but if you need a walker you need your own walker. I'm sure he has Medicaid, Medicaid will pay for adaptive equipment. Please leave Ron's alone, he bought it with his own money.
I said something to the driver after he disembarked, grabbing and lunging at the walker again. Although I doubt anything will beat the guy in the wheelchair with huge scabs all over one arm, who decided to scratch by rubbing his scabby arm all over Ron's wheelchair. Thank God we were going home. I refused to let the driver or Ron touch the wheelchair until I gave it a cleaning with the disinfecting wipes and Lysol.
Nasty.
That's the other thing, you don't know what diseases someone may have; and a lot of stuff is communicated by body fluids, like the sweat you're getting all over those handlebars. [shudder]
So, work was pretty dead. The bill changer wasn't working. I kept telling Ron I thought it had eaten a bill but he wouldn't listen. When he did, it had, and we saved a service call, getting our #1 bill changer back into production.
No, I didn't crow.
So. We went out and Ron lectured me about the driver yesterday, saying he "Didn't appreciate" me telling him to stop.
"Ron" I told him "I had a migraine. You were shouting. Do you really want to shout in my ear when I have a migraine? That's who I married?" He got very quiet for a while, then started up with the "Maybe you should stop taking your medication" routine again.
As bad as I find life in my head, it would be a lot worse if I went off medication. Not just for me, but for everyone around me. I told him.
I also reminded him that I impact drivers and customers if nothing else, and if we want good relations with both I had better keep taking my medication.
I didn't bother to tell him this, but the migraines aren't just due to medication. I got about 3 a month before my diagnosis. When I had good health insurance, the vomiting would get so bad I used to go to the ER and get IV's to rehydrate, .
It's not like that, now.
It's just chronic, persistent, headaches with an occasional whopper. I'm battling a minor headache now.
We came home. We had to have the handyman out, again, to fix another thing the insurance company didn't like. Sigh. As if we haven't already spent enough this week.
When we got home, I heard Biscuit screaming in the laundry room. Ron had locked him in. Ron, rightly, felt terrible about that. I think Biscuit is done with the laundry room now. I was teasing him, holding the door open and inviting him to explore, and he gave me a speaking look as he stalked off.
I didn't get a nap. I did get a pizza, and had that with my medication. My pie is a coconut cream. It doesn't agree with Ron but I liked it, lots of whipped cream on top.
I can see why House of Pies is so popular.
The handyman is here, working on the trim. I will take a photo and send it to the insurance company, and we will be done for 6 months or so. Finally.
Monday, December 21, 2015
A day so awful...
Sometimes, I have a day so awful I don't even want to write about it.
The migraine woke me up in the middle of the night, and I finally got up at 2 AM to address it with OTC pain pills. I couldn't even think of a shower, much less God Time, and nearly vomited on the way to work. Then I got to do all my heavy stocking and lifting duties while I suffered.
We had a ride with one of the worst drivers in the fleet, he is very confused, a timid driver (very bad in Houston), and nearly got me shot 3 years ago shouting at a gangbanger who then pulled a gun and pointed it at my head. Needless to say, I did not relax until my feet were on the ground at work.
I did all the aforementioned work, with the headache. I will say the machines looked good when I left.
You have probably met one of those personalities in your travels. One of those very stubborn, independent, no-ones-going-to-tell-me-what-to-do types. I married one. We also had one as a driver.
He was sick. Pray I do not catch the cold, if you pray. If you don't pray send me good wishes at least for a healthy immune system.
Ron complained about that. Ron complained about the music. Ron got positively ugly when the guy took back roads to get us home.
I, in the meantime, am battling the migraine and really don't want any raised voices. They began to argue. Ron was so awful it's a blessing the driver didn't pull over and throw us out. The driver was coloring within the lines; they are given some latitude and he was using it.
He was a lot safer than our first driver and a pleasant enough fellow when Ron's not shouting at him. Agh.
I ended up ordering Ron to "Shut up" and begging them both to please be quiet, I have a migraine.
You know, I really didn't think my day was that bad until I started typing this all out. We got home. I put the pie away (the sandwich company gave us a pie from a famous bakery, today), and told Ron I was going to bed.
Ron decides to call in a complaint about 20 minutes after I went to sleep, right as I was falling asleep. It kept me up. I was Not Happy but at least he wasn't pointing it at me.
I did feel sorry for whoever had to listen to him.
The plumber called a little after that - so no nap today.
Our shutoff valve was leaking, in addition to the bad p-trap and busted pop up assembly. All told, that cost $666 but he gave Ron the senior discount. Still cost $605.
Ron had been wanting to give me something "nice" for Christmas. I guess that's it. It is all nice and shiny under the sink. Although he says we need a new sink, but we can't afford that now. When we do the kitchen, I'm just getting a new faucet only. God only knows what they have done to the PVC under the drains - probably the same thing they did to the one in the bathroom. It all appears to be functional, and has been, for the last 11 years so we will leave well enough alone.
I am going to order pizza. I am going to eat it and take my pills, now that I can abide the thought of eating. I have already taken megadoses of immune system boosters, and a 50 gram protein shake. I want to give my soldiers plenty of ammunition to fight this off.
Pray God I will sleep well tonight and no migraine.
I think, all things considered, He will understand me skipping my God Time.
The migraine woke me up in the middle of the night, and I finally got up at 2 AM to address it with OTC pain pills. I couldn't even think of a shower, much less God Time, and nearly vomited on the way to work. Then I got to do all my heavy stocking and lifting duties while I suffered.
We had a ride with one of the worst drivers in the fleet, he is very confused, a timid driver (very bad in Houston), and nearly got me shot 3 years ago shouting at a gangbanger who then pulled a gun and pointed it at my head. Needless to say, I did not relax until my feet were on the ground at work.
I did all the aforementioned work, with the headache. I will say the machines looked good when I left.
You have probably met one of those personalities in your travels. One of those very stubborn, independent, no-ones-going-to-tell-me-what-to-do types. I married one. We also had one as a driver.
He was sick. Pray I do not catch the cold, if you pray. If you don't pray send me good wishes at least for a healthy immune system.
Ron complained about that. Ron complained about the music. Ron got positively ugly when the guy took back roads to get us home.
I, in the meantime, am battling the migraine and really don't want any raised voices. They began to argue. Ron was so awful it's a blessing the driver didn't pull over and throw us out. The driver was coloring within the lines; they are given some latitude and he was using it.
He was a lot safer than our first driver and a pleasant enough fellow when Ron's not shouting at him. Agh.
I ended up ordering Ron to "Shut up" and begging them both to please be quiet, I have a migraine.
You know, I really didn't think my day was that bad until I started typing this all out. We got home. I put the pie away (the sandwich company gave us a pie from a famous bakery, today), and told Ron I was going to bed.
Ron decides to call in a complaint about 20 minutes after I went to sleep, right as I was falling asleep. It kept me up. I was Not Happy but at least he wasn't pointing it at me.
I did feel sorry for whoever had to listen to him.
The plumber called a little after that - so no nap today.
Our shutoff valve was leaking, in addition to the bad p-trap and busted pop up assembly. All told, that cost $666 but he gave Ron the senior discount. Still cost $605.
Ron had been wanting to give me something "nice" for Christmas. I guess that's it. It is all nice and shiny under the sink. Although he says we need a new sink, but we can't afford that now. When we do the kitchen, I'm just getting a new faucet only. God only knows what they have done to the PVC under the drains - probably the same thing they did to the one in the bathroom. It all appears to be functional, and has been, for the last 11 years so we will leave well enough alone.
I am going to order pizza. I am going to eat it and take my pills, now that I can abide the thought of eating. I have already taken megadoses of immune system boosters, and a 50 gram protein shake. I want to give my soldiers plenty of ammunition to fight this off.
Pray God I will sleep well tonight and no migraine.
I think, all things considered, He will understand me skipping my God Time.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
P-trap saga
I slept pretty well last night, happy about that.
I got up early, did my God Time, took my shower. For me, when I'm depressed taking my shower is the hardest thing ever.
I had a pretty nasty headache so I couldn't take my morning meds, I would have vomited. I wrote a few chapters in "Broken" if you are reading it (serial online romance).
I cleaned out under and above the bathroom sink so the plumber would have room to work.
The plumber came. He was very nice. He spent a fair amount of time under there, only to tell me the P-trap had been glued into place (not appropriate plumbing) and had to be completely removed. Had it been done properly, he would have just unscrewed it. Glued into place, it will have to be cut out and replaced. That will cost us, minimum, another $300.
Not Happy about that. I don't blame the plumber, but the flipper who had the house before us and the truly incompetent and/or bribed home inspector who examined our house prior to purchase. He said the plumbing was fine. It was not. It had electrical issues, which we fixed. It had structural issues in the bathroom, which we fixed. The roofing was bad. We fixed that.
Anyway, a lot of fixing, that I feel should have been prevented. I believe our agent paid him off to do a "good" inspection. I know for a fact she was not moral; she tried to get us to buy the house, then turn around and rent it to the sellers at our cost. Who does that? No one! She was very upset when we told her no. I was told by another agent that was completely unethical, and she never should have considered it.
He did get the stopper out. There is a very slow leak in the drain pipe, but I fixed that with a bucket. That should hold us for a while now.
Now I need to go through everything formerly under the sink, and determine what I can keep. I don't think I need everything I currently have.
But that will take a while and a trash can and a fair amount of work. Did I mention I'm depressed?
Still trying to make a good day of it anyway. I got a decent nap when the plumber left. Since the sink faucet is very old, we will probably just swap out the whole sink. That way we have all new everything in there and minimal drama. The "bandaid" approach will just result in another repair shortly.
Hate to think how much that would cost. Ron asked me if I wanted [something "nice"] for Christmas, I guess that will be a new bathroom sink. I use it a lot for handwashing, personal care, etc. It's a good investment.
But if we ever end up in an apartment I won't complain about rent increases. Yes, the mortgage stays the same, but repairs will certainly eat into the budget!
I got up early, did my God Time, took my shower. For me, when I'm depressed taking my shower is the hardest thing ever.
I had a pretty nasty headache so I couldn't take my morning meds, I would have vomited. I wrote a few chapters in "Broken" if you are reading it (serial online romance).
I cleaned out under and above the bathroom sink so the plumber would have room to work.
The plumber came. He was very nice. He spent a fair amount of time under there, only to tell me the P-trap had been glued into place (not appropriate plumbing) and had to be completely removed. Had it been done properly, he would have just unscrewed it. Glued into place, it will have to be cut out and replaced. That will cost us, minimum, another $300.
Not Happy about that. I don't blame the plumber, but the flipper who had the house before us and the truly incompetent and/or bribed home inspector who examined our house prior to purchase. He said the plumbing was fine. It was not. It had electrical issues, which we fixed. It had structural issues in the bathroom, which we fixed. The roofing was bad. We fixed that.
Anyway, a lot of fixing, that I feel should have been prevented. I believe our agent paid him off to do a "good" inspection. I know for a fact she was not moral; she tried to get us to buy the house, then turn around and rent it to the sellers at our cost. Who does that? No one! She was very upset when we told her no. I was told by another agent that was completely unethical, and she never should have considered it.
He did get the stopper out. There is a very slow leak in the drain pipe, but I fixed that with a bucket. That should hold us for a while now.
Now I need to go through everything formerly under the sink, and determine what I can keep. I don't think I need everything I currently have.
But that will take a while and a trash can and a fair amount of work. Did I mention I'm depressed?
Still trying to make a good day of it anyway. I got a decent nap when the plumber left. Since the sink faucet is very old, we will probably just swap out the whole sink. That way we have all new everything in there and minimal drama. The "bandaid" approach will just result in another repair shortly.
Hate to think how much that would cost. Ron asked me if I wanted [something "nice"] for Christmas, I guess that will be a new bathroom sink. I use it a lot for handwashing, personal care, etc. It's a good investment.
But if we ever end up in an apartment I won't complain about rent increases. Yes, the mortgage stays the same, but repairs will certainly eat into the budget!
Saturday, December 19, 2015
When both the carts are empty...
I was sure it would be quiet Thursday night. But they had the guy over - yelling in Spanish, in the backyard, again, some kind of church service.
I am 98% sure another neighbor broke it up by firing a gun into the air. Several shots. Each time. Did it twice. Needless to say that broke up the party quick. You can bet I would never call in a complaint on that guy.
I will save my opinions. I will say, though, when this guy behaves the rest of the neighborhood is nice and quiet. He can't seem to understand he is "that guy". The one all the other neighbors detest. No one else has the loud parties. One lady across the street called them "trash". The Bible says not to do that so I won't, but I often wish they'd move. They seem to be decompensating.
Then I wonder what else might move in? Someone with a pathological fear of cats, for instance. Or just hates cats. Someone who just would be a worse fit than the ones we've got already.
I fell asleep about 10, slept badly, and had to get up about 3. I had gone ahead and taken my shower that night when I realized I wouldn't sleep anyway.
I got up and prepared for work. Then our ride was an hour late picking us up. It got to be so bad, they sent two drivers. Right after we got into the one vehicle, the other showed up. I suspect he might have made some noise idling and looking for us.
I'm sorry it might have disturbed the good neighbors, but I saw 2 of them leaving while we waited, anyway. We get up early, on our block. That's why we need our sleep at night!
We got to work and the other vendor was in a truly vile, "control freak" mood. I could barely get my soda order. I stayed away from him as much as possible.
Ron likes to toy with people, a little, and went out of his way to kill the guy with kindness. The guy thinks Ron is OK now. I'm the "it", he hates, right now. All I will say is that he's making his life harder than it has to be.
We worked, but didn't need to do much. The manager is having "town hall" meetings and lavishly feeding everyone who attends, so our sales were pretty slow. The other vendor had a lot to say about that, but it's her (the manager's) facility.
We're invited. We don't own the place.
I did what I could, did an inventory, and determined that yes we would need to do a supply run today. When both my carts are empty, that's a bad sign. I store my bottled soda, and water, inventory on those carts.
We came home, I took a nap. I woke up after an hour and a half surprisingly refreshed, but I grabbed another hour anyway. Then I got up and we ran some errands.
Ron wanted some mall food court takeout. We got that, and some "itch medicine" for the cats, a systemic that I apply to the cat. Anything that sucks their blood then dies. It's pretty cool.
We came home, I dosed 75% of the cats, and I went to bed early. Praise God, I could sleep. I slept nearly 12 hours, got up, and got ready for today.
I dosed the last cat, ate, showered, took my meds, did most of my God Time. Our ride was late, again, and had another pickup, a very foul-tempered and brooding woman. I wanted to tell her it could be a lot worse, but didn't bother.
We finally got to the warehouse and I got my supplies. I wasn't able to get as many of my supplies because Ron needed 29 cases of drinks, but I got enough. I got candy, chips, cookies, etc.
I checked out and my favorite cart attendant was waiting to help. One of my other favorites showed up to help, making things go even faster.
Great. We got to work and I had to unload it all by myself. I was annoyed when I caught our driver staring at my chest. I was wearing a t-shirt over a sport bra. He was being obvious about staring.
I moved away and turned so he couldn't look, and stayed busy until he went away. I also mentioned it to Ron, who will make sure it gets back to the guy.
It was cold. I was doing heavy manual labor. I can't exactly wear a padded bra but I may need to if the guy's going to be a pervert.
Ugh. It was the last thing I needed.
It really bothered me a lot, that he was so obvious about it. I know some men may look at my butt sometimes, because bending over is a part of my job, and some men like bigger butts. But you don't need to be so very obvious. He was practically burning a hole in my chest, and I'm not very observant about these things.
I got everything in the building and stocked the fridge, getting Ron his drinks. I did what I could for snacks but yesterday was pretty quiet too, as I expected. We had a nice assortment of food items and I was happy.
We left and came home. Ron called the yard guy to come by and do our yard (we had a lot of leaves) but someone had already done it. We paid our guy anyway, and he did the back yard. Since #2 has a lot of people over tonight, I'm guessing it was him. Some people are like that, they want to fancy up the neighborhood before they have their friends over. My sister in law says she did that, too.
Huh.
I had a headache, I usually get a headache everytime I take my meds. Sometimes it is small and wafts away, other times it digs in like a persistent, hungry, tick. I seemed to have the latter. I think the noise from the yard equipment didn't help.
I took a dose of aspirin and laid down with Torbie. She laid on my pelvis as I laid on my back. I slept that way for about an hour. I had a pretty good energy level, for me, so I got up and got to business.
Ron encouraged me to go back to sleep, but I knew I needed to at least do the blog, if nothing else.
I am 98% sure another neighbor broke it up by firing a gun into the air. Several shots. Each time. Did it twice. Needless to say that broke up the party quick. You can bet I would never call in a complaint on that guy.
I will save my opinions. I will say, though, when this guy behaves the rest of the neighborhood is nice and quiet. He can't seem to understand he is "that guy". The one all the other neighbors detest. No one else has the loud parties. One lady across the street called them "trash". The Bible says not to do that so I won't, but I often wish they'd move. They seem to be decompensating.
Then I wonder what else might move in? Someone with a pathological fear of cats, for instance. Or just hates cats. Someone who just would be a worse fit than the ones we've got already.
I fell asleep about 10, slept badly, and had to get up about 3. I had gone ahead and taken my shower that night when I realized I wouldn't sleep anyway.
I got up and prepared for work. Then our ride was an hour late picking us up. It got to be so bad, they sent two drivers. Right after we got into the one vehicle, the other showed up. I suspect he might have made some noise idling and looking for us.
I'm sorry it might have disturbed the good neighbors, but I saw 2 of them leaving while we waited, anyway. We get up early, on our block. That's why we need our sleep at night!
We got to work and the other vendor was in a truly vile, "control freak" mood. I could barely get my soda order. I stayed away from him as much as possible.
Ron likes to toy with people, a little, and went out of his way to kill the guy with kindness. The guy thinks Ron is OK now. I'm the "it", he hates, right now. All I will say is that he's making his life harder than it has to be.
We worked, but didn't need to do much. The manager is having "town hall" meetings and lavishly feeding everyone who attends, so our sales were pretty slow. The other vendor had a lot to say about that, but it's her (the manager's) facility.
We're invited. We don't own the place.
I did what I could, did an inventory, and determined that yes we would need to do a supply run today. When both my carts are empty, that's a bad sign. I store my bottled soda, and water, inventory on those carts.
We came home, I took a nap. I woke up after an hour and a half surprisingly refreshed, but I grabbed another hour anyway. Then I got up and we ran some errands.
Ron wanted some mall food court takeout. We got that, and some "itch medicine" for the cats, a systemic that I apply to the cat. Anything that sucks their blood then dies. It's pretty cool.
We came home, I dosed 75% of the cats, and I went to bed early. Praise God, I could sleep. I slept nearly 12 hours, got up, and got ready for today.
I dosed the last cat, ate, showered, took my meds, did most of my God Time. Our ride was late, again, and had another pickup, a very foul-tempered and brooding woman. I wanted to tell her it could be a lot worse, but didn't bother.
We finally got to the warehouse and I got my supplies. I wasn't able to get as many of my supplies because Ron needed 29 cases of drinks, but I got enough. I got candy, chips, cookies, etc.
I checked out and my favorite cart attendant was waiting to help. One of my other favorites showed up to help, making things go even faster.
Great. We got to work and I had to unload it all by myself. I was annoyed when I caught our driver staring at my chest. I was wearing a t-shirt over a sport bra. He was being obvious about staring.
I moved away and turned so he couldn't look, and stayed busy until he went away. I also mentioned it to Ron, who will make sure it gets back to the guy.
It was cold. I was doing heavy manual labor. I can't exactly wear a padded bra but I may need to if the guy's going to be a pervert.
Ugh. It was the last thing I needed.
It really bothered me a lot, that he was so obvious about it. I know some men may look at my butt sometimes, because bending over is a part of my job, and some men like bigger butts. But you don't need to be so very obvious. He was practically burning a hole in my chest, and I'm not very observant about these things.
I got everything in the building and stocked the fridge, getting Ron his drinks. I did what I could for snacks but yesterday was pretty quiet too, as I expected. We had a nice assortment of food items and I was happy.
We left and came home. Ron called the yard guy to come by and do our yard (we had a lot of leaves) but someone had already done it. We paid our guy anyway, and he did the back yard. Since #2 has a lot of people over tonight, I'm guessing it was him. Some people are like that, they want to fancy up the neighborhood before they have their friends over. My sister in law says she did that, too.
Huh.
I had a headache, I usually get a headache everytime I take my meds. Sometimes it is small and wafts away, other times it digs in like a persistent, hungry, tick. I seemed to have the latter. I think the noise from the yard equipment didn't help.
I took a dose of aspirin and laid down with Torbie. She laid on my pelvis as I laid on my back. I slept that way for about an hour. I had a pretty good energy level, for me, so I got up and got to business.
Ron encouraged me to go back to sleep, but I knew I needed to at least do the blog, if nothing else.
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Packages are my job
So far, I've gotten a decent amount of sleep. I'm still battling pretty bad anxiety.
When I got up to pee in the middle of the night, Torbie had left the dryer, so I shut it.
I "slept in" and got up at 7:30. Then I did my God Time and Ron and I went to the pet store. I bought 25# of cat food, Ron drank coffee at the coffee shop. I did run down some Kolaches for myself, and a couple of diet sodas for tomorrow.
I had a lot of packages for our ride home, but managed them all by myself. The drivers job is driving. My job is packages.
We came home and I took my meds, then a nap. I tried to sleep as long as I could because we have a very early pickup tomorrow - 3-something in the morning. Since we live within 1/2 mile of a bus stop with very good service, we get a little better service on our hours of service.
We have some construction projects nearby: they are building a new Burger King, and also a detention pond for our subdivision - an additional one. Good, we can use it, although it is sad about the trees being razed. Kind of reminds me of the Ents in Lord of the Rings.
I don't, however, expect Ents to come to life and start throwing bulldozers around. I may be fanciful but not that much.
So, I'm trying to stock up on sleep, as it's been my experience it can be difficult to get a good rest when I go to bed early, like 6 PM. I'm just happy the kids next door are out of school NEXT week, and not this one. By the time we have our next delivery, they will be back in class.
The sink is still broken, which poses some inconvenience. I'll be glad when that's done with. We still need to pay some property taxes but they won't send the bill! How the heck are we supposed to pay it?
We also have some medical bills Ron needs to pay - all naggling inconveniences. Plus my endless, late, anxiety about everything in the world. Basically I just fear my whole life going to hell for some reason. When I think about it, there are a lot of ways that could happen.
I haven't checked the siding they were abusing last week, during the party. I am afraid to see it may be badly damaged and I will have to confront him without being a bitch. Easier said than done.
I mean, how to explain basic concepts like "Don't play soccer off my bedroom wall, and tear up my siding.", to someone who really seems to think it is OK? How does one impute "It is not OK to do this" to someone who won't even shut up when the neighbors call the police on them? He's not stupid, just selfish and immature.
It seems futile. I will, for now, trust that the damage, if any, is not bad. Worst case I will have to paint it. But it's one more thing to worry about.
Ugh. Since I am undergoing all these spiritual attacks, I really want to do a Bible Handout. It looks like the weather will be pretty nice all next week.
It would be nice to strike back.
When I got up to pee in the middle of the night, Torbie had left the dryer, so I shut it.
I "slept in" and got up at 7:30. Then I did my God Time and Ron and I went to the pet store. I bought 25# of cat food, Ron drank coffee at the coffee shop. I did run down some Kolaches for myself, and a couple of diet sodas for tomorrow.
I had a lot of packages for our ride home, but managed them all by myself. The drivers job is driving. My job is packages.
We came home and I took my meds, then a nap. I tried to sleep as long as I could because we have a very early pickup tomorrow - 3-something in the morning. Since we live within 1/2 mile of a bus stop with very good service, we get a little better service on our hours of service.
We have some construction projects nearby: they are building a new Burger King, and also a detention pond for our subdivision - an additional one. Good, we can use it, although it is sad about the trees being razed. Kind of reminds me of the Ents in Lord of the Rings.
I don't, however, expect Ents to come to life and start throwing bulldozers around. I may be fanciful but not that much.
So, I'm trying to stock up on sleep, as it's been my experience it can be difficult to get a good rest when I go to bed early, like 6 PM. I'm just happy the kids next door are out of school NEXT week, and not this one. By the time we have our next delivery, they will be back in class.
The sink is still broken, which poses some inconvenience. I'll be glad when that's done with. We still need to pay some property taxes but they won't send the bill! How the heck are we supposed to pay it?
We also have some medical bills Ron needs to pay - all naggling inconveniences. Plus my endless, late, anxiety about everything in the world. Basically I just fear my whole life going to hell for some reason. When I think about it, there are a lot of ways that could happen.
I haven't checked the siding they were abusing last week, during the party. I am afraid to see it may be badly damaged and I will have to confront him without being a bitch. Easier said than done.
I mean, how to explain basic concepts like "Don't play soccer off my bedroom wall, and tear up my siding.", to someone who really seems to think it is OK? How does one impute "It is not OK to do this" to someone who won't even shut up when the neighbors call the police on them? He's not stupid, just selfish and immature.
It seems futile. I will, for now, trust that the damage, if any, is not bad. Worst case I will have to paint it. But it's one more thing to worry about.
Ugh. Since I am undergoing all these spiritual attacks, I really want to do a Bible Handout. It looks like the weather will be pretty nice all next week.
It would be nice to strike back.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
A fruitless hunt for the bleach pen
Pretty tired today.
It didn't start out bad: I got to sleep in and got up around 7. AM. I took my shower and did my God Time later.
We went to Walmart and bought some things for the house. I couldn't find a bleach pen anywhere, and I looked! I had Ron in the kiddie cart and he made some very appreciative comments.
Ron has gotten much better at appreciation, the last couple years.
I try to reciprocate.
We went to work and spent some hours stocking. We are about out of inventory, now. We'll get more. I drank a lot of diet soda which I believe fueled my anxiety, which was pretty bad tonight.
First, though, we had to get home. Our driver took a lot of "shortcuts" which resulted in a much longer duration. Hint: never take a route past an elementary school at 3 PM.
When we got home, I ate one of my burgers from yesterday and took my meds. What I had left for the day, that is. I take some in the morning, with food, and then more in the evening with food.
Ron says he can hear when the medication kicks in, it affects my tone of voice and affect. I bet it does.
Medication loaded, I took a short nap. So far it has been quiet tonight so I guess they are not having their revival service in the backyard like they did last week.
Sometimes, they are not easy neighbors.
I'm sure they think the same about us.
I got up, did my God Time, and worked on the laundry. I worked on cleaning the bathroom.
Ron has the plumber coming to fix the sink on Sunday. Good. I am a little tired of brushing my teeth in the bathtub.
I organized the cat food and the front room, fed Biscuit and the gang their can of food, and had some quality time with Torbie, who is currently ensconced in the dryer. In the dryer. She knows I'm not the sick people who would close the door and turn the dryer on.
She's my Baby Girl. I worry about her. Picking her up, I worry about old joints and such. I try to put her down carefully. I believe she is in her teens and that is very old for a cat.
I'll enjoy her while I have her, but I'm going to need to get her out of the dryer before I go to bed.
Maybe I can lure her out with treats.
It didn't start out bad: I got to sleep in and got up around 7. AM. I took my shower and did my God Time later.
We went to Walmart and bought some things for the house. I couldn't find a bleach pen anywhere, and I looked! I had Ron in the kiddie cart and he made some very appreciative comments.
Ron has gotten much better at appreciation, the last couple years.
I try to reciprocate.
We went to work and spent some hours stocking. We are about out of inventory, now. We'll get more. I drank a lot of diet soda which I believe fueled my anxiety, which was pretty bad tonight.
First, though, we had to get home. Our driver took a lot of "shortcuts" which resulted in a much longer duration. Hint: never take a route past an elementary school at 3 PM.
When we got home, I ate one of my burgers from yesterday and took my meds. What I had left for the day, that is. I take some in the morning, with food, and then more in the evening with food.
Ron says he can hear when the medication kicks in, it affects my tone of voice and affect. I bet it does.
Medication loaded, I took a short nap. So far it has been quiet tonight so I guess they are not having their revival service in the backyard like they did last week.
Sometimes, they are not easy neighbors.
I'm sure they think the same about us.
I got up, did my God Time, and worked on the laundry. I worked on cleaning the bathroom.
Ron has the plumber coming to fix the sink on Sunday. Good. I am a little tired of brushing my teeth in the bathtub.
I organized the cat food and the front room, fed Biscuit and the gang their can of food, and had some quality time with Torbie, who is currently ensconced in the dryer. In the dryer. She knows I'm not the sick people who would close the door and turn the dryer on.
She's my Baby Girl. I worry about her. Picking her up, I worry about old joints and such. I try to put her down carefully. I believe she is in her teens and that is very old for a cat.
I'll enjoy her while I have her, but I'm going to need to get her out of the dryer before I go to bed.
Maybe I can lure her out with treats.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
It's just that hard
It was a busy day.
I got up and did my God Time. I watched a little TV, ate, took my meds, took a nap.
I got up and took my shower. Now, a couple times a week I wash my hairbrush in the sink, in warm water, with soap, because it gets greasy. I did that today.
Imagine how I felt when I couldn't get the sink to "unstop" and drain. That's right, I have a useless bathroom sink right now. So many things can go wrong in a home, I never even dreamed.
I am happy that none of these problems happened when our money was tight, back the last couple years. Not that it's "loose" but we can afford a minor repair.
I wonder how long it will last, when we can get a guy to come out and fix it. The plumber we like said they can't come out until Monday.
Can I live without my bathroom sink until then? Yes. It will prove inconvenient, but livable. It's not the toilet, thank God, or the shower.
But it's still a PITA home repair, in addition to the thing the homeowner's insurance wants me to do, too.
Ugh. I was already depressed.
In the meantime, Ron's been going around in shoes a homeless person would reject. We talked and decided to run an errand today, then go to the sporting goods store and buy him some new shoes. They didn't sell the Reebok DMX, but they had something else for $15 a pair. We got him two. Ron still plans to keep the ragged shoes for hanging out around the house and yard work.
We called our friend, did that, and went to Burger King afterward. "We don't have to spend a lot of money" I told him "To have a nice dinner." He agreed.
We came home, took out the trash, and Ron fought with the sink for a while. The "easy fix" my friends swear exist - doesn't. It looks pretty complex to me! It also involves a lot of tools and specialty parts.
Better, I think, to call an expert. I don't have to do it on my own. Plunge a toilet, clean the drain lines, you got it. Mount a faucet filter, you got it.
Disassemble a drain line? I don't think so.
Medicated, I have the brains of a squirrel. I don't mean that in a cruel way but I have no brains. It is very hard for me to do complex tasks like home repair and I'd rather not even attempt it.
I had enough excitement with my new Fire Tablet, which arrived today. I still haven't figured out how to install the memory chip. It took me forever just to get it charging, and that's not a slap at Amazon. It's just that hard. I assume I'll get the chip figured out, if I don't I'll put it in my cell phone. If I could get the cover off my cell phone, which I can't, either.
Agh.
So, the new device is on the charger. It has a very nice charger. I input my wi-fi password, lots of fun, that. I will work on figuring out how to do various operations on it, eventually.
But post-medicated is never really a good time for me.
I got up and did my God Time. I watched a little TV, ate, took my meds, took a nap.
I got up and took my shower. Now, a couple times a week I wash my hairbrush in the sink, in warm water, with soap, because it gets greasy. I did that today.
Imagine how I felt when I couldn't get the sink to "unstop" and drain. That's right, I have a useless bathroom sink right now. So many things can go wrong in a home, I never even dreamed.
I am happy that none of these problems happened when our money was tight, back the last couple years. Not that it's "loose" but we can afford a minor repair.
I wonder how long it will last, when we can get a guy to come out and fix it. The plumber we like said they can't come out until Monday.
Can I live without my bathroom sink until then? Yes. It will prove inconvenient, but livable. It's not the toilet, thank God, or the shower.
But it's still a PITA home repair, in addition to the thing the homeowner's insurance wants me to do, too.
Ugh. I was already depressed.
In the meantime, Ron's been going around in shoes a homeless person would reject. We talked and decided to run an errand today, then go to the sporting goods store and buy him some new shoes. They didn't sell the Reebok DMX, but they had something else for $15 a pair. We got him two. Ron still plans to keep the ragged shoes for hanging out around the house and yard work.
We called our friend, did that, and went to Burger King afterward. "We don't have to spend a lot of money" I told him "To have a nice dinner." He agreed.
We came home, took out the trash, and Ron fought with the sink for a while. The "easy fix" my friends swear exist - doesn't. It looks pretty complex to me! It also involves a lot of tools and specialty parts.
Better, I think, to call an expert. I don't have to do it on my own. Plunge a toilet, clean the drain lines, you got it. Mount a faucet filter, you got it.
Disassemble a drain line? I don't think so.
Medicated, I have the brains of a squirrel. I don't mean that in a cruel way but I have no brains. It is very hard for me to do complex tasks like home repair and I'd rather not even attempt it.
I had enough excitement with my new Fire Tablet, which arrived today. I still haven't figured out how to install the memory chip. It took me forever just to get it charging, and that's not a slap at Amazon. It's just that hard. I assume I'll get the chip figured out, if I don't I'll put it in my cell phone. If I could get the cover off my cell phone, which I can't, either.
Agh.
So, the new device is on the charger. It has a very nice charger. I input my wi-fi password, lots of fun, that. I will work on figuring out how to do various operations on it, eventually.
But post-medicated is never really a good time for me.
Monday, December 14, 2015
I am tired
Whew, long day.
Yesterday I got up, did my shower and God Time, got Ron up, and watched church on the computer. Ron may not want to go, but is surprisingly faithful about watching it on the computer. He likes to drink while he does so but does not get ugly.
I tried to take a nap, but had a problem. Biscuit was hogging all the covers. Sure, I could have shoved him on the floor, or yanked them out from under him, but I didn't want to disturb him. He was so cute. He slitted his eyes at me, purring. He knew.
I found a wool blanket, my trusty red wool one from 2009, it only cost me $10. It is warm, soft, and not very itchy. I used it.
Later on, I figured out the parental Christmas presents. Not easy. As you may know, when you're an adult with living parents what do you get them? They already have everything, they're not poverty stricken, they can get anything they want. I was happy with my final selections.
I was even happier, while digging around on Amazon, to find my Fire Tablet will be arriving this week, two weeks ahead of predictions. I basically got the 8 Gigabyte model with 32 additional Gigs of memory. It's funny, I remember the old double sided floppy disks, measured in Megabytes. I remember my first computer had a 30 Megabyte hard drive. I remember how Ron wrote code to steal video RAM memory on his configuration, to "feed" his "talking computer" voice.
People wonder how Ron uses a computer. He uses a CPU and a keyboard only. The CPU is connected to headphones or a speaker. The computer "talks" to him, he can set it to repeat every character he types, lines, or pages. He uses keyboard commands, shift, command, etc, to "mouse" around on the screen. No, he does not talk to the computer. The computer talks to him.
I have a standard setup, running Windows 7. My birthday indulgence resulted in a nice monitor, I think about 20 inches. I have a very nice speaker system that only cost $30. The bass is insane. I have to keep the volume down pretty far or Ron complain.
He has a few songs I hate, so unless I want him playing "Tulsa Time" I'd better "behave"!
Biscuit has come to visit. He's done with me now. It's my hope he will become a lap cat one day.
Torbie is a lap cat, old, but fiercely independent. She is very cuddly, on her terms.
Maybe, Biscuit, one day.
I slept pretty good last night. I had to get up pretty early and hit the snooze alarm more than once. I got my shower, and did my God Time later. I don't feel too bad about that as long as I am "doing" God before the computer.
Speaking of both, it's nice to have my hand back.
We went to work. I believe the other vendor was trying to pick fights and push my buttons. I just said 'You're entitled to your opinion" when he accused me, yet again, of "Needing a medication tuneup".
See, if I have a problem you know who's going to complain? Ron. Ron lives with me, spends every working, waking, minute with me. He sees me more and knows me better than anyone. If I'm manic, Ron will tease me by making "yaka yaka" noises. If I'm cranky he says so. He frets when I'm depressed.
So, even if I didn't know, on my own, I was absolutely fine (given the circumstances), I also knew that Ron would be the one to tell me if I had a problem. Ron was fine, I just avoided the other guy.
Ron was miffed when I told him, and made a point of accompanying me to the stockroom after that. The games ended.
Later on, one of his guys was trying to bait me, but I just said "I heard you" and left it at that. That guy's unreached, I kind of expect that. But the other vendor knows better.
However, as I told Ron, I wouldn't want their lives for anything, even if it meant having a totally restored mind and no brain damage. Ron agreed.
I actually did work, and helped Ron. We got our delivery and then left.
We came back with a truckload of stuff - that's right, "Truck Day!". I got the carts out, unloaded, got it all in the building, stocked what I could, etc. That kept us busy for hours.
I did not get a nap and only recently took my medication. Things are a little odd in my head, but not overly bad.
I did get it all done and Ron and I only had one minor squabble. Happily, not in front of the other vendor.
I tell you, I am tired. I sure hope I sleep well tonight.
Yesterday I got up, did my shower and God Time, got Ron up, and watched church on the computer. Ron may not want to go, but is surprisingly faithful about watching it on the computer. He likes to drink while he does so but does not get ugly.
I tried to take a nap, but had a problem. Biscuit was hogging all the covers. Sure, I could have shoved him on the floor, or yanked them out from under him, but I didn't want to disturb him. He was so cute. He slitted his eyes at me, purring. He knew.
I found a wool blanket, my trusty red wool one from 2009, it only cost me $10. It is warm, soft, and not very itchy. I used it.
Later on, I figured out the parental Christmas presents. Not easy. As you may know, when you're an adult with living parents what do you get them? They already have everything, they're not poverty stricken, they can get anything they want. I was happy with my final selections.
I was even happier, while digging around on Amazon, to find my Fire Tablet will be arriving this week, two weeks ahead of predictions. I basically got the 8 Gigabyte model with 32 additional Gigs of memory. It's funny, I remember the old double sided floppy disks, measured in Megabytes. I remember my first computer had a 30 Megabyte hard drive. I remember how Ron wrote code to steal video RAM memory on his configuration, to "feed" his "talking computer" voice.
People wonder how Ron uses a computer. He uses a CPU and a keyboard only. The CPU is connected to headphones or a speaker. The computer "talks" to him, he can set it to repeat every character he types, lines, or pages. He uses keyboard commands, shift, command, etc, to "mouse" around on the screen. No, he does not talk to the computer. The computer talks to him.
I have a standard setup, running Windows 7. My birthday indulgence resulted in a nice monitor, I think about 20 inches. I have a very nice speaker system that only cost $30. The bass is insane. I have to keep the volume down pretty far or Ron complain.
He has a few songs I hate, so unless I want him playing "Tulsa Time" I'd better "behave"!
Biscuit has come to visit. He's done with me now. It's my hope he will become a lap cat one day.
Torbie is a lap cat, old, but fiercely independent. She is very cuddly, on her terms.
Maybe, Biscuit, one day.
I slept pretty good last night. I had to get up pretty early and hit the snooze alarm more than once. I got my shower, and did my God Time later. I don't feel too bad about that as long as I am "doing" God before the computer.
Speaking of both, it's nice to have my hand back.
We went to work. I believe the other vendor was trying to pick fights and push my buttons. I just said 'You're entitled to your opinion" when he accused me, yet again, of "Needing a medication tuneup".
See, if I have a problem you know who's going to complain? Ron. Ron lives with me, spends every working, waking, minute with me. He sees me more and knows me better than anyone. If I'm manic, Ron will tease me by making "yaka yaka" noises. If I'm cranky he says so. He frets when I'm depressed.
So, even if I didn't know, on my own, I was absolutely fine (given the circumstances), I also knew that Ron would be the one to tell me if I had a problem. Ron was fine, I just avoided the other guy.
Ron was miffed when I told him, and made a point of accompanying me to the stockroom after that. The games ended.
Later on, one of his guys was trying to bait me, but I just said "I heard you" and left it at that. That guy's unreached, I kind of expect that. But the other vendor knows better.
However, as I told Ron, I wouldn't want their lives for anything, even if it meant having a totally restored mind and no brain damage. Ron agreed.
I actually did work, and helped Ron. We got our delivery and then left.
We came back with a truckload of stuff - that's right, "Truck Day!". I got the carts out, unloaded, got it all in the building, stocked what I could, etc. That kept us busy for hours.
I did not get a nap and only recently took my medication. Things are a little odd in my head, but not overly bad.
I did get it all done and Ron and I only had one minor squabble. Happily, not in front of the other vendor.
I tell you, I am tired. I sure hope I sleep well tonight.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
"Assistant"
I don't want to be --- First, an adjustment to make for easier typing on the keyboard. It tends to rattle when I really get going and I don't want to wake Ron.
#6 is like a shaken up soda. For much of the time, they are very quiet, with some exceptions. Then, on party night, they erupt into barrio-style low-class behavior.
I have been told, repeatedly, any kind of party, even a "child's birthday", that is held late at night, with drinking, is really just an adult drinking party. That's what we had last night. I think it was Christmas related.
Their guests seemed even more trashy than usual, shouting, screaming, tackling each other into my siding and using it to rebound soccer balls towards the goal. They forget that is someone's home. They don't apparently care that it is someone else's property. And people are trying to sleep, on the other side of the wall.
Now, if this were happening at 1-3 PM, I would try to be understanding and ignore it. In my perfect world, I get a nap every day (I did eke out a little sleep yesterday afternoon). I would wish they weren't doing their best to wreck my siding, but I would try to empathize.
People have a right to their celebrations. However, when I can hear bodies crashing into my siding, people grunting as I lay in bed, and loud crashes as the ball rebounds off the siding, at 10 PM - when they lose the ball at 9:40, my lights are out, and they try to ring the doorbell to get it back - that's a problem. I have never been so happy I unplugged the doorbell. It wasn't truly quiet until after midnight.
One of the women across the street told me she liked us, because we are quiet, "Unlike that trash.", with a pointed look at #6. Do they really want to be the neighbor everyone hates? I suppose. No one else in the neighborhood has these kinds of parties. They want the "Classy" neighborhood, but they want to act barrio. (A barrio is a Spanish ghetto full of the ignorant)
Now, I'm not blameless. I'm the one that probably needs a mow, or at this point, my leaves raked. My house is a lurid orange color. For a while, we couldn't afford minor cosmetic repairs. We had a few issues. But we're quiet. The only time we're not, paratransit is backing up in the street, or honking in our driveway (we have a request in our notes for them not to do either). We can't help paratransit.
Ron called the police, twice, especially after they came banging on the door, and then tried to climb the back fence to get the ball. Apparently they were too drunk because I found a ball in the yard this morning - which I returned over the fence, quietly.
Around 11, Ron, in desperation, went out on his own. I told him not to bother, because I didn't think it would work to appeal to his heart, or decency.
I was wrong. "He was very drunk" Ron told me "And I would know. I told him I was sorry, several times, in Spanish. I told him I needed to go to work tomorrow, could they please be quiet and let us sleep." They shut it down after that.
Pretty much.
Of course, as happens during his parties, he went around for an hour after the party picking up and throwing glass bottles into the recycle can, making a tremendous racket.
I wonder how long they would have gone, otherwise, if Ron hadn't gone over?
I was pretty worried Ron would go in confrontational, especially given some of the things he was saying at home, but "I asked God to lead me and He did."
I just asked God to please protect my siding, and to please give us a decent quality of sleep since we weren't going to get the duration. Ideally I would have prayed for the revelers.
Since they have been waking me up or keeping me up, various nights this week, I think I'm a little manic. I woke up after 4 hours, and went back to sleep for a couple more. I had a good cuddle with Biscuit, most of the night.
I worried about the cats, though, going in and out of the cat door during all this mayhem. I was worried they might get kicked if they went next door, or hit with a ball.
I decided that Baby Ruth should make a nougat and caramel only bar, and thanked God I didn't have a headache. When I got home, I was exhausted and needing something solid to eat. I was delighted to find the single-serving cheesecake in the fridge, waiting.
I got up, fed Biscuit, did my God Time (!) - I had resolved, since this all sure felt like a spiritual attack, to do that at least, and then took my shower. I am in the midst of my cycle and day two is always pretty gory.
We went to work. The other vendor's guy was there, and his carts cluttered up the work area. Frustrating.
I did snacks, which have been doing some business but not wiped out. Someone yelled at me; we "didn't have any sandwiches" - but I counted 14. I love it when people try to tell me how to do my job. I even had to throw four out, that had gone out of code and expired - because no one bought them. They were still good yesterday, when she claimed "Everyone was looking for sandwiches". I guess it offended her the machine wasn't stuffed with product.
Well, they didn't even buy 14 - I'm certainly not putting out dozens. She was also latino and I couldn't help but think she would have loved the party next door.
Anyway, I stocked my remainder, Saturday night and Sunday night are my big sellers. I put out some other food items, too. I helped Ron.
Ron and I were talking about social security. Ron "can" only work as long as he proves he can't do "substantial gainful activity".
Here's a good example: I do an inventory. Ron calls in the order. I check it in and pay the man. I stack up the order in sequence. I help Ron get the sodas. I identify the sodas in the machine as he calls out. I remind him of the soda sequence in his lap. I help if he drops them. You get the idea. That's just canned soda. I also get the accountability readings and such.
My job is more "Personal Assistant/Assistant manager". Mostly just "assistant". I have my own work: snacks and food. But I do alright on my own with that. However, not much happens without me, which is glad I only sprained a finger instead of breaking a foot.
We finished it all and went out, to find out driver waiting for us. Awesome.
We got home and they were gone, next door. I gobbled my cheesecake, took my pills, and grabbed a nap. #8 decided to play some music while they worked on the car, so I had that, and #6 was really loud coming home, but I did get a couple hours total.
My hand has been fine throughout this so I think it's on the mend. I do plan to wear my splint at work.
#6 is like a shaken up soda. For much of the time, they are very quiet, with some exceptions. Then, on party night, they erupt into barrio-style low-class behavior.
I have been told, repeatedly, any kind of party, even a "child's birthday", that is held late at night, with drinking, is really just an adult drinking party. That's what we had last night. I think it was Christmas related.
Their guests seemed even more trashy than usual, shouting, screaming, tackling each other into my siding and using it to rebound soccer balls towards the goal. They forget that is someone's home. They don't apparently care that it is someone else's property. And people are trying to sleep, on the other side of the wall.
Now, if this were happening at 1-3 PM, I would try to be understanding and ignore it. In my perfect world, I get a nap every day (I did eke out a little sleep yesterday afternoon). I would wish they weren't doing their best to wreck my siding, but I would try to empathize.
People have a right to their celebrations. However, when I can hear bodies crashing into my siding, people grunting as I lay in bed, and loud crashes as the ball rebounds off the siding, at 10 PM - when they lose the ball at 9:40, my lights are out, and they try to ring the doorbell to get it back - that's a problem. I have never been so happy I unplugged the doorbell. It wasn't truly quiet until after midnight.
One of the women across the street told me she liked us, because we are quiet, "Unlike that trash.", with a pointed look at #6. Do they really want to be the neighbor everyone hates? I suppose. No one else in the neighborhood has these kinds of parties. They want the "Classy" neighborhood, but they want to act barrio. (A barrio is a Spanish ghetto full of the ignorant)
Now, I'm not blameless. I'm the one that probably needs a mow, or at this point, my leaves raked. My house is a lurid orange color. For a while, we couldn't afford minor cosmetic repairs. We had a few issues. But we're quiet. The only time we're not, paratransit is backing up in the street, or honking in our driveway (we have a request in our notes for them not to do either). We can't help paratransit.
Ron called the police, twice, especially after they came banging on the door, and then tried to climb the back fence to get the ball. Apparently they were too drunk because I found a ball in the yard this morning - which I returned over the fence, quietly.
Around 11, Ron, in desperation, went out on his own. I told him not to bother, because I didn't think it would work to appeal to his heart, or decency.
I was wrong. "He was very drunk" Ron told me "And I would know. I told him I was sorry, several times, in Spanish. I told him I needed to go to work tomorrow, could they please be quiet and let us sleep." They shut it down after that.
Pretty much.
Of course, as happens during his parties, he went around for an hour after the party picking up and throwing glass bottles into the recycle can, making a tremendous racket.
I wonder how long they would have gone, otherwise, if Ron hadn't gone over?
I was pretty worried Ron would go in confrontational, especially given some of the things he was saying at home, but "I asked God to lead me and He did."
I just asked God to please protect my siding, and to please give us a decent quality of sleep since we weren't going to get the duration. Ideally I would have prayed for the revelers.
Since they have been waking me up or keeping me up, various nights this week, I think I'm a little manic. I woke up after 4 hours, and went back to sleep for a couple more. I had a good cuddle with Biscuit, most of the night.
I worried about the cats, though, going in and out of the cat door during all this mayhem. I was worried they might get kicked if they went next door, or hit with a ball.
I decided that Baby Ruth should make a nougat and caramel only bar, and thanked God I didn't have a headache. When I got home, I was exhausted and needing something solid to eat. I was delighted to find the single-serving cheesecake in the fridge, waiting.
I got up, fed Biscuit, did my God Time (!) - I had resolved, since this all sure felt like a spiritual attack, to do that at least, and then took my shower. I am in the midst of my cycle and day two is always pretty gory.
We went to work. The other vendor's guy was there, and his carts cluttered up the work area. Frustrating.
I did snacks, which have been doing some business but not wiped out. Someone yelled at me; we "didn't have any sandwiches" - but I counted 14. I love it when people try to tell me how to do my job. I even had to throw four out, that had gone out of code and expired - because no one bought them. They were still good yesterday, when she claimed "Everyone was looking for sandwiches". I guess it offended her the machine wasn't stuffed with product.
Well, they didn't even buy 14 - I'm certainly not putting out dozens. She was also latino and I couldn't help but think she would have loved the party next door.
Anyway, I stocked my remainder, Saturday night and Sunday night are my big sellers. I put out some other food items, too. I helped Ron.
Ron and I were talking about social security. Ron "can" only work as long as he proves he can't do "substantial gainful activity".
Here's a good example: I do an inventory. Ron calls in the order. I check it in and pay the man. I stack up the order in sequence. I help Ron get the sodas. I identify the sodas in the machine as he calls out. I remind him of the soda sequence in his lap. I help if he drops them. You get the idea. That's just canned soda. I also get the accountability readings and such.
My job is more "Personal Assistant/Assistant manager". Mostly just "assistant". I have my own work: snacks and food. But I do alright on my own with that. However, not much happens without me, which is glad I only sprained a finger instead of breaking a foot.
We finished it all and went out, to find out driver waiting for us. Awesome.
We got home and they were gone, next door. I gobbled my cheesecake, took my pills, and grabbed a nap. #8 decided to play some music while they worked on the car, so I had that, and #6 was really loud coming home, but I did get a couple hours total.
My hand has been fine throughout this so I think it's on the mend. I do plan to wear my splint at work.
Friday, December 11, 2015
Devil man
#6, 3rd night in a row:
1. Devil man screaming in their yard, I presume church.
2. last night, talking loudly outside at 11PM.
3. Loud party with screaming kids and kicking the ball into my house again.. Came and banged on the door like a bill collector at one point looking for their ball. I didn't answer. Ron finally talked to the father & explained we have to work tomorrow.
UGH.
1. Devil man screaming in their yard, I presume church.
2. last night, talking loudly outside at 11PM.
3. Loud party with screaming kids and kicking the ball into my house again.. Came and banged on the door like a bill collector at one point looking for their ball. I didn't answer. Ron finally talked to the father & explained we have to work tomorrow.
UGH.
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Monday, December 7, 2015
Friday, December 4, 2015
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Off whiskey
Yesterday we did our big supply run. All was well, until I dropped a case of water while moving it from one cart, to another. I tried to grab it as it fell, only managing to "catch" my left index finger as the case crashed to the ground with a good 40 pounds of inertia. The water was fine. My finger wasn't even that stiff, at first, but I was in a lot of pain a few hours later.
The finger looks fine and it moves OK, albeit stiffly.
Today I bought a splint and have worn it all day, that's helped a lot. I seem to be OK typing but if it hurts again (more), I will put the splint on. I intend to wear the splint at all times unless I am blogging or washing my hands.
I'm still depressed, got a lot of attention from Torbie last night which was fun. While at the store today, I got Biscuit plenty of his favorite food. I only spent about $50, including $14 worth of cat food. I bought a lot of TV dinners.
Ron is "off" whiskey for a while and drinking red wine. He is really trying to be conscious of portion sizes. He asked me how much he was drinking today - how many portions. I told him 8 ounces was about one and a half portions of wine. Based on his snores that seems to have worked pretty well for him.
I already took my pills so I don't have to worry about dinner. Good thing, the Naproxen I took for the pain made me pretty queasy.
The finger looks fine and it moves OK, albeit stiffly.
Today I bought a splint and have worn it all day, that's helped a lot. I seem to be OK typing but if it hurts again (more), I will put the splint on. I intend to wear the splint at all times unless I am blogging or washing my hands.
I'm still depressed, got a lot of attention from Torbie last night which was fun. While at the store today, I got Biscuit plenty of his favorite food. I only spent about $50, including $14 worth of cat food. I bought a lot of TV dinners.
Ron is "off" whiskey for a while and drinking red wine. He is really trying to be conscious of portion sizes. He asked me how much he was drinking today - how many portions. I told him 8 ounces was about one and a half portions of wine. Based on his snores that seems to have worked pretty well for him.
I already took my pills so I don't have to worry about dinner. Good thing, the Naproxen I took for the pain made me pretty queasy.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Monday, November 30, 2015
Don it
Something woke me up at 1 AM, I wasn't happy. I finally went back to sleep but, interrupted, I was pretty exhausted this morning.
I had to laugh at myself as I applied me deodorant. I had shaved one armpit, and forgotten the other.
We rode with the teacher's aide today. Even though other women wait at the door of the school, she acts as though the driver must wait until it's unlocked. Not according to paratransit rules, unless she has a severe intellectual limitation. Now, it's not the best neighborhood but it's certainly not that bad. And, if given a choice, I think they will rob the older, obese, white lady with the huge leather purse.
Last time she waited so long in the car Ron had to remind the driver we had to get to work, we had deliveries, and we weren't interested in catering to overly hysterical fears. If you are really that worried about your safety, get a concealed weapons permit. A gun will certainly stop a mugging, or whatever else you fear.
Lest you think I am a bitch, I have lived in horrible neighborhoods, where I saw people mugged on a regular basis, where they had a security guard doing check-ins on every car that entered, where the landlady admitted to renting to "at least 3" drug dealers. Where I found empty bottles of cough syrup, dirty syringes, and used condoms everywhere I stepped. Where I was constantly hassled by newly paroled sex offenders because they thought I was a prostitute (I dress very modestly).
Now, that's a bad area. And you know what? I used to come home from work, on the bus, by myself, in the dark. Sometimes I walked 2 miles home from work at 11 PM. I lived. I wasn't stupid, I used common sense. I didn't carry a purse or wear anything of value.
I feel a little bad about that, all these years with my engagement ring, and I have seldom worn it. I haven't had it stolen, either.
That reminds me of one of Ron's therapists at the hospital. She had what must have been a 5-carat ring on her hand, at a charity hospital. Not smart.
So, use your common sense, you will be fine. If you remain overly fearful, read "The Gift of Fear" by Gavin De Becker. Good book. Has a whole chapter about the workplace shooting at my Dad's office.
We got to work, things were about average in terms of sales. I didn't feel bad we took 2 days off. I got to work stocking.
The other vendors have an astounding amount of paraphernalia. They must have 10 carts, including a large flatbed. They have dozens of milk crates they fill with product and stack on the carts, but in the meantime they stack them up all around the stockroom, making horrible obstacles for Ron. He HATES working Monday, as a result.
I had to get him around all their crap in addition to helping him and doing my usual duties.
We are nearly sold out, in our stockroom, so we have to do a truck run tomorrow and buy more inventory. I don't mind that. I plan to buy some new things.
I have a Christmas t-shirt, it's a fake sweater, so I will wear that tomorrow. I like my Santa hat, it says "Merry Christmas" on it, but it is rather warm when I'm working. I may wait on it until I'm done moving all the inventory, then don it.
Something funny happened today and I threatened to put it in the blog. I can't remember what, though.
That's it for now.
I had to laugh at myself as I applied me deodorant. I had shaved one armpit, and forgotten the other.
We rode with the teacher's aide today. Even though other women wait at the door of the school, she acts as though the driver must wait until it's unlocked. Not according to paratransit rules, unless she has a severe intellectual limitation. Now, it's not the best neighborhood but it's certainly not that bad. And, if given a choice, I think they will rob the older, obese, white lady with the huge leather purse.
Last time she waited so long in the car Ron had to remind the driver we had to get to work, we had deliveries, and we weren't interested in catering to overly hysterical fears. If you are really that worried about your safety, get a concealed weapons permit. A gun will certainly stop a mugging, or whatever else you fear.
Lest you think I am a bitch, I have lived in horrible neighborhoods, where I saw people mugged on a regular basis, where they had a security guard doing check-ins on every car that entered, where the landlady admitted to renting to "at least 3" drug dealers. Where I found empty bottles of cough syrup, dirty syringes, and used condoms everywhere I stepped. Where I was constantly hassled by newly paroled sex offenders because they thought I was a prostitute (I dress very modestly).
Now, that's a bad area. And you know what? I used to come home from work, on the bus, by myself, in the dark. Sometimes I walked 2 miles home from work at 11 PM. I lived. I wasn't stupid, I used common sense. I didn't carry a purse or wear anything of value.
I feel a little bad about that, all these years with my engagement ring, and I have seldom worn it. I haven't had it stolen, either.
That reminds me of one of Ron's therapists at the hospital. She had what must have been a 5-carat ring on her hand, at a charity hospital. Not smart.
So, use your common sense, you will be fine. If you remain overly fearful, read "The Gift of Fear" by Gavin De Becker. Good book. Has a whole chapter about the workplace shooting at my Dad's office.
We got to work, things were about average in terms of sales. I didn't feel bad we took 2 days off. I got to work stocking.
The other vendors have an astounding amount of paraphernalia. They must have 10 carts, including a large flatbed. They have dozens of milk crates they fill with product and stack on the carts, but in the meantime they stack them up all around the stockroom, making horrible obstacles for Ron. He HATES working Monday, as a result.
I had to get him around all their crap in addition to helping him and doing my usual duties.
We are nearly sold out, in our stockroom, so we have to do a truck run tomorrow and buy more inventory. I don't mind that. I plan to buy some new things.
I have a Christmas t-shirt, it's a fake sweater, so I will wear that tomorrow. I like my Santa hat, it says "Merry Christmas" on it, but it is rather warm when I'm working. I may wait on it until I'm done moving all the inventory, then don it.
Something funny happened today and I threatened to put it in the blog. I can't remember what, though.
That's it for now.
A look in my belly
OK, what do we eat?
1. Richards Chicken and Sausage Gumbo. It's about $3.50 for one serving, but you can stretch it to two if you have a salad and make more rice.
2. Savoie's Chicken and Sausage Gumbo. If you are in Houston they have these at the Walters and 1960 Walmart. Same price.
3. Ron likes Nighthawk TV Dinner - Top Chop't - it has a steak patty, sauce, mashed potatoes with cheese and bacon on top. That's about $2 -$2.50.
4. I like Banquet pot pies. They nuke easy and agree with my lithium. The beef is very beefy. I like Beef, or Turkey flavors.
5. I also like "The Greek Gods" greek yogurt. It is full fat and the Honey flavor is sweet, but not overly so. Agrees with the lithium.
6. If I'm in a cooking mood, the Asian porridges are great - they have combinations of whole grains and some beans, I just soak it and cook it in my rice pot. I buy them at Asian grocery stores with "funny" names.
7. I am also a huge fan of the $1 double cheeseburger. They agree with the lithium.
8. Ron used to love Stouffer's Lasagna, but he hasn't had it in a while.
9. On rare occasion, I like fish sticks, but they can be iffy with the lithium, which is probably why I don't eat them more often.
10. Tuna salad. I make it simply, with just drained tuna, real mayo, and a little lemon pepper.
11. Love to eat, hate to make: grilled cheese, pancakes. Not at the same time.
12. Green salads make me violently ill if eaten anywhere near my lithium, no matter what else I consume.
13. However fruit salads are OK so I have been eating more of them. I want to eat a variety of foods.
1. Richards Chicken and Sausage Gumbo. It's about $3.50 for one serving, but you can stretch it to two if you have a salad and make more rice.
2. Savoie's Chicken and Sausage Gumbo. If you are in Houston they have these at the Walters and 1960 Walmart. Same price.
3. Ron likes Nighthawk TV Dinner - Top Chop't - it has a steak patty, sauce, mashed potatoes with cheese and bacon on top. That's about $2 -$2.50.
4. I like Banquet pot pies. They nuke easy and agree with my lithium. The beef is very beefy. I like Beef, or Turkey flavors.
5. I also like "The Greek Gods" greek yogurt. It is full fat and the Honey flavor is sweet, but not overly so. Agrees with the lithium.
6. If I'm in a cooking mood, the Asian porridges are great - they have combinations of whole grains and some beans, I just soak it and cook it in my rice pot. I buy them at Asian grocery stores with "funny" names.
7. I am also a huge fan of the $1 double cheeseburger. They agree with the lithium.
8. Ron used to love Stouffer's Lasagna, but he hasn't had it in a while.
9. On rare occasion, I like fish sticks, but they can be iffy with the lithium, which is probably why I don't eat them more often.
10. Tuna salad. I make it simply, with just drained tuna, real mayo, and a little lemon pepper.
11. Love to eat, hate to make: grilled cheese, pancakes. Not at the same time.
12. Green salads make me violently ill if eaten anywhere near my lithium, no matter what else I consume.
13. However fruit salads are OK so I have been eating more of them. I want to eat a variety of foods.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
They'd probably stone you.
I don't know about you, but when someone wants me to like someone - desperately wants me to do so, I tend to put my hackles up. I approach the meetings with resentment and trepidation. I resist, firmly, the "You have to like them you're going to be such good friends".
The last time it happened, I didn't like the person on first meeting, but tried to give them a chance. In the course of our very brief interaction, I shared some mildly personal information and tried to be sympathetic to their plight.
Subsequent events over the next few days confirmed my suspicion that said person was a drama-seeker. They, in fact, kept trying to suck me into their dramas. I was pretty upset. I don't know you, I have my own problems. I'm not going to nursemaid you. I don't care. The issues they had were fairly typical for someone of their age, but try to tell them that.
At the time I felt I had much larger issues, I sure didn't have any energy or empathy left over for petty stuff.
Our driver will often talk about introducing us to his women and I always think that will end badly, but he never does.
If you want me to like someone (not that many do), introduce me and let them make an impression. Either I'll like them, or I won't, but let me draw my own conclusions based on their behavior.
I am sick of the media and their muslim apologists. They keep trying to present the muslim as a tragic, persecuted, victim. There's a story every day.
My experience of islam can be more accurately defined by my best friend's abusive father. By the driver who literally threw Ron's wheelchair in the driveway, having a tantrum because I chose to ride in the front seat (first come, first served, per transit policies) and refused to stay where he put me after he moved my purse. Courteous men of any nationality know: you don't move a strange woman's purse unless she hands it to you and makes a request. You certainly don't throw someone's wheelchair in the driveway, for any provocation. I believe he was fired for that.
I have had many other experiences. You may not know, but many muslim men become cab drivers in Houston. Most of them have been rude, haughty, and impatient. I didn't feel safe riding with them, either.
You're not impressing me with your behavior. So, in my experience, muslim men have been tyrannical control freaks. Ron was witnessing to one, a "nice" guy, lately, an "apostate" no less, the man got upset because Ron was talking about Jesus, and shouted at him to stop. Ron's kind of unstoppable when he gets going.
The atheists, agnostics, and backslidden Christians couldn't care less when Ron gets going. They usually laugh at him, or ask a few questions to see just how crazy he runs.
The other problem, as I see it: freedom of religion. That means I am free to worship as I choose. I can do my God Time at home or have it in the park. I can hand out Bibles, or donate to a ministry that does so. All those mysterious "new" women in the getup (veiled and robed) at my local Walmart are free to prance around in America, speaking Arabic and wearing their tents. America's a tolerant society.
However, the muslim culture is not:
Qur'an 2:191-193,
"And kill them wherever you find them, and turn them out from where they have turned you out. And Al-Fitnah [disbelief or unrest] is worse than killing...
"...but if they desist, then lo! allah is forgiving and merciful. And fight them until there is no more Fitnah [disbelief and worshipping of others along with allah] and worship is for allah alone."
Abdullah Yusuf Ali,
The Holy Qur'an (1934):
"But when the forbidden months are past,
then fight and slay the Pagans wherever ye find them,
and seize them, beleaguer them, and lie in wait for them in every stratagem (of war);
but if they repent, and establish regular prayers and practise regular charity, then open the way for them:
for allah is Oft-forgiving, Most Merciful."
What are my duties as a Christian? I'm supposed to love them, pray for them. Do good for them when I can (but not in a way that supports, I believe, islam). As a Christian, a muslim is free to live in my country as long as they are a contributing member of society. Don't steal, don't murder, don't beat your wife or butcher your little girls. We don't charge special taxes for those of other faiths. However, in islam, a Jew or Christian must pay 50% of their wages to islam, in order to remain alive and unmolested. That's just the last sentence covered.
I think the "kill everyone, in any way possible" sentence is pretty clear.
I spoke to a Christian woman from Sudan. We were talking about the Bible Handouts and she said they'd never be permitted "back home". "Because I hand out Bibles?" I asked.
"Well, that" she said "And I can see your legs." I was wearing very modest Bermuda shorts, covering me to the knee. They were loose fitting, at that. "They'd probably stone you."
That pretty much said it all, to me.
The last time it happened, I didn't like the person on first meeting, but tried to give them a chance. In the course of our very brief interaction, I shared some mildly personal information and tried to be sympathetic to their plight.
Subsequent events over the next few days confirmed my suspicion that said person was a drama-seeker. They, in fact, kept trying to suck me into their dramas. I was pretty upset. I don't know you, I have my own problems. I'm not going to nursemaid you. I don't care. The issues they had were fairly typical for someone of their age, but try to tell them that.
At the time I felt I had much larger issues, I sure didn't have any energy or empathy left over for petty stuff.
Our driver will often talk about introducing us to his women and I always think that will end badly, but he never does.
If you want me to like someone (not that many do), introduce me and let them make an impression. Either I'll like them, or I won't, but let me draw my own conclusions based on their behavior.
I am sick of the media and their muslim apologists. They keep trying to present the muslim as a tragic, persecuted, victim. There's a story every day.
My experience of islam can be more accurately defined by my best friend's abusive father. By the driver who literally threw Ron's wheelchair in the driveway, having a tantrum because I chose to ride in the front seat (first come, first served, per transit policies) and refused to stay where he put me after he moved my purse. Courteous men of any nationality know: you don't move a strange woman's purse unless she hands it to you and makes a request. You certainly don't throw someone's wheelchair in the driveway, for any provocation. I believe he was fired for that.
I have had many other experiences. You may not know, but many muslim men become cab drivers in Houston. Most of them have been rude, haughty, and impatient. I didn't feel safe riding with them, either.
You're not impressing me with your behavior. So, in my experience, muslim men have been tyrannical control freaks. Ron was witnessing to one, a "nice" guy, lately, an "apostate" no less, the man got upset because Ron was talking about Jesus, and shouted at him to stop. Ron's kind of unstoppable when he gets going.
The atheists, agnostics, and backslidden Christians couldn't care less when Ron gets going. They usually laugh at him, or ask a few questions to see just how crazy he runs.
The other problem, as I see it: freedom of religion. That means I am free to worship as I choose. I can do my God Time at home or have it in the park. I can hand out Bibles, or donate to a ministry that does so. All those mysterious "new" women in the getup (veiled and robed) at my local Walmart are free to prance around in America, speaking Arabic and wearing their tents. America's a tolerant society.
However, the muslim culture is not:
Qur'an 2:191-193,
"And kill them wherever you find them, and turn them out from where they have turned you out. And Al-Fitnah [disbelief or unrest] is worse than killing...
"...but if they desist, then lo! allah is forgiving and merciful. And fight them until there is no more Fitnah [disbelief and worshipping of others along with allah] and worship is for allah alone."
Abdullah Yusuf Ali,
The Holy Qur'an (1934):
"But when the forbidden months are past,
then fight and slay the Pagans wherever ye find them,
and seize them, beleaguer them, and lie in wait for them in every stratagem (of war);
but if they repent, and establish regular prayers and practise regular charity, then open the way for them:
for allah is Oft-forgiving, Most Merciful."
What are my duties as a Christian? I'm supposed to love them, pray for them. Do good for them when I can (but not in a way that supports, I believe, islam). As a Christian, a muslim is free to live in my country as long as they are a contributing member of society. Don't steal, don't murder, don't beat your wife or butcher your little girls. We don't charge special taxes for those of other faiths. However, in islam, a Jew or Christian must pay 50% of their wages to islam, in order to remain alive and unmolested. That's just the last sentence covered.
I think the "kill everyone, in any way possible" sentence is pretty clear.
I spoke to a Christian woman from Sudan. We were talking about the Bible Handouts and she said they'd never be permitted "back home". "Because I hand out Bibles?" I asked.
"Well, that" she said "And I can see your legs." I was wearing very modest Bermuda shorts, covering me to the knee. They were loose fitting, at that. "They'd probably stone you."
That pretty much said it all, to me.
Saturday, November 28, 2015
Feathers on a stick
What did I do yesterday? Depressed, went to work anyway. I did everything except fill the nickels in my busiest snack machine. My customers are going to be very unhappy about that.
Well, I can't do anything about it now. I went home and took a nap (yes!), then Ron and I went to Walmart.
1. I needed my medication.
2. Biscuit can always use more canned food.
3. Might as well check out the specials.
I saw a couple things I might have been interested in: a button up fleece shirt (not the sweatshirt fabric, but the other kind) - but I already have 2, and it's just not that cold in Houston. I also saw a thermal legging/top set, pretty cute, but nothing in my size. All the colors were pretty sold out but the coral, which didn't seem to get anyone excited. I even looked for my size in the coral. Nope.
Ah, well. I mainly bought some food, a pot, the num-nums for Biscuit, and a purse. This one is actually a crossbody purse, which I've been seeking. It's big enough to hold my Kindle but not so big it looks like luggage. I'm happy. I already waterproofed it.
The pharmacist "had" to talk to me because they changed the supplier on the Wellbutrin, which I already knew. I said it gave me far fewer headaches than the larger, pink, tablets. He was happy to hear that.
We came home, I ate some pizza, and watched some TV. Ron got an irate phone call from a pregnant woman who lost some money on the bill changer. I could hear her shouting from the other room. Then I went to bed.
This morning I woke up to a drizzly cold rain. I had planned to get up and go to the pet store. They're having a sale on Christmas toys for pets - and our gang love the "feathers on a stick" toy. It looks like s small feather duster. Ron loves it because it is an easy toy for him to manipulate and he can feel them "jerk" as they attack it.
I decided to stay home.
After much debate, I bought myself one of the Amazon Fire $35 tablets. I also got some memory and a "kid" case. I figure it's a good idea to get something easy to grip, due to my occasional butterfingers. I have wi-fi now, it should be easy to use. It should arrive in about a month.
I watched some TV and called Dad. He is happy to hear Ron is figuring out portion control, and that it takes the body 90 minutes to reach the peak "drunk". Ron would slam back several drinks in that time frame, trying to "tune out".
It's funny, my parents (all 3 of them) were worried I would develop a drinking problem. Instead, I married one.
3 parents of course being biological mom, adoptive mom, and my Dad. They seem to be doing well. Dad is considering selling the time-share.
Ron's reading a book about some couple vacationing in Barbados. "Do people really have leather luggage?" Yes, I told him, they do. I think we still have Ron's old vinyl suitcase running around here somewhere. It didn't even have wheels.
If I would better one muscle group, it would be my forearms. I think they could use some work. I think every other group is in pretty good condition. My arms sure got a good workout on that old suitcase!
Anyway, that's it for now. Still depressed, still fighting it.
Well, I can't do anything about it now. I went home and took a nap (yes!), then Ron and I went to Walmart.
1. I needed my medication.
2. Biscuit can always use more canned food.
3. Might as well check out the specials.
I saw a couple things I might have been interested in: a button up fleece shirt (not the sweatshirt fabric, but the other kind) - but I already have 2, and it's just not that cold in Houston. I also saw a thermal legging/top set, pretty cute, but nothing in my size. All the colors were pretty sold out but the coral, which didn't seem to get anyone excited. I even looked for my size in the coral. Nope.
Ah, well. I mainly bought some food, a pot, the num-nums for Biscuit, and a purse. This one is actually a crossbody purse, which I've been seeking. It's big enough to hold my Kindle but not so big it looks like luggage. I'm happy. I already waterproofed it.
The pharmacist "had" to talk to me because they changed the supplier on the Wellbutrin, which I already knew. I said it gave me far fewer headaches than the larger, pink, tablets. He was happy to hear that.
We came home, I ate some pizza, and watched some TV. Ron got an irate phone call from a pregnant woman who lost some money on the bill changer. I could hear her shouting from the other room. Then I went to bed.
This morning I woke up to a drizzly cold rain. I had planned to get up and go to the pet store. They're having a sale on Christmas toys for pets - and our gang love the "feathers on a stick" toy. It looks like s small feather duster. Ron loves it because it is an easy toy for him to manipulate and he can feel them "jerk" as they attack it.
I decided to stay home.
After much debate, I bought myself one of the Amazon Fire $35 tablets. I also got some memory and a "kid" case. I figure it's a good idea to get something easy to grip, due to my occasional butterfingers. I have wi-fi now, it should be easy to use. It should arrive in about a month.
I watched some TV and called Dad. He is happy to hear Ron is figuring out portion control, and that it takes the body 90 minutes to reach the peak "drunk". Ron would slam back several drinks in that time frame, trying to "tune out".
It's funny, my parents (all 3 of them) were worried I would develop a drinking problem. Instead, I married one.
3 parents of course being biological mom, adoptive mom, and my Dad. They seem to be doing well. Dad is considering selling the time-share.
Ron's reading a book about some couple vacationing in Barbados. "Do people really have leather luggage?" Yes, I told him, they do. I think we still have Ron's old vinyl suitcase running around here somewhere. It didn't even have wheels.
If I would better one muscle group, it would be my forearms. I think they could use some work. I think every other group is in pretty good condition. My arms sure got a good workout on that old suitcase!
Anyway, that's it for now. Still depressed, still fighting it.
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