Friday, January 30, 2015


"I threw up in my piss bottle." Ron told me sadly.  "I tried to be quiet so I wouldn't wake you, but I worried about splashing." 

I'm an awful person.  I immediately began laughing so hard I cried, and nearly fell off the curb I was sitting. 

Ron, it seems, at a bad Kolache.  One got me years ago (look up my purgative post).  Something about kolaches with egg in them... not good.  He got the "Denver". 

He was fine until sometime last night, when he began vomiting.  Not wanting to make a mess, he used the nearest thing at hand, the half-full 2 liter bottle of old urine.   He uses it, then dumps it out, and rinses, every day or so. 

"The smell was pretty bad" he continued as I wheezed with laughter "It made me throw up again."  He grinned at me as I sobbed and wheezed, nearly rolling on the ground as I envisioned the horrific scene. 

I begged and begged, please let me put it in the blog.  He pretended to object.  "That's personal.  I bet you're going to do it anyway." 

I told him I'd abide by his wishes, but it'd make such a good post.  He agreed. 

He managed to get to the toilet in time, for the rest of the drama.  Thank you Jesus.  I did sign up for that had it happened.

The flushing woke me up.  Not the vomiting, or, I'm sure, the desperate journey to the toilet (a good reason to live in a small home).  The flushing.  He apologized but I understood.

It's not like he said "Pick out the salmonella kolache, that's the one I want."  He didn't leave it out at room temperature.  He did everything right.

We both agree we are pretty much done eating egg products.  I nearly died from Salmonella back in 2004, the day we bought the house.  I lost 15 pounds in 3 days.  I couldn't even move into my home for two weeks.  My digestion was damaged for years.

All from a freaking scrambled egg.  Ugh.

"If it wasn't truck day" he told me sadly "I'd stay home." 

"Just be glad you're not the one loading the truck!"  He nodded.

We went to the store, got the supplies, and checked out.  My boyfriend the cart attendant found me and we loaded the truck.  We got to work, I unloaded, and got everything stocked.

Things have been pretty slow -that's typical for this time of year.  It is nice not to have a stocking frenzy.

I stocked everything, helped Ron - to his undying appreciation, and even did the accountability readings before we left.

Ron had to go.  He wasn't happy to find they were cleaning the men's room.  "I'm going to have a code brown!"

I'd just used the ladies room.  It was empty.  I took him in and stood guard.  He left everything the way he found it.

Better than the alternative.  We went out and had a good trip home.  It was long, but not bad.

I tried to take a nap but it didn't work out very well.   I heard strange meowing.  I think one of the girl cats objected to me locking the kittens in the bedroom with me. 

However, Ron went to the liquor store and I didn't want to stay up and play kitten patrol (we don't want them outside).  I had to lock them up, and since I was taking a nap I put them in with me. 

I heard the little kids next door, with the dog (I worry the dog doesn't get enough time with the family).  I also heard a terrible thump into the side of the house.  I assume someone flew off the trampoline, into our siding. 

They're the ones who took off the safety netting.  Their middle boy broke his arm on the trampoline a few years ago. 

They went off somewhere and Ron came home.  Once he was in, I let the kittens out.  I did my God Time with Torbie, just like old times.  A kitten came by and she chased him off.  I finished.  Ron and I had fun playing with the kittens. 

I'll be glad when I take my shower tomorrow.  I got the bright idea to try washing my hair with some coconut oil soap.  I got insane lathering, and it was super clean, but now it feels weird and greasy.  The ends are also really dry, too. 

Sigh.  I'm always looking for the super easy long hair care routine.  Especially when I'm depressed.  However, the coconut oil soap ought to be good for shaving my legs. 

Happily, the rest of my personal care routine went as expected.  About done with my cycle, too. 

I take a salt tablet every day or so, when I'm craving it.  It seems to help a lot. 

The other day, I had a driver.  She had a terrible headcold and I was sitting right next to her.  She was clearly miserable. 

I'm praying I don't catch it.  I'm also taking all my remedies and preventives. 

I really want to enjoy my days off, as much as a depressed person can. 

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Second Coat

I'm watching Biscuit use the litterbox.  He can't figure out it's easier to "cover" if one uses litter and not "air digs". 

I feel like yesterday shouldn't have seen so hard, but it was.  We got up, went to Walmart.  I didn't do my God Time and barely got my shower. 

I found the 20 cent seed packets from American Seeds.  I really like them, they have done very well for me in the past.  The packets have a generous amount for someone like me, who doesn't use much.  Best of all, they had just been delivered.  They were taking them out of the packaging. 

You'll recall me saying the ideal seed packet has been protected from heat, light, and moisture.  

I loaded up on some favorites and headed off to other things.  Mainly snackfoods for Ron and some spray bottles for discipline. 

For instance, just now Torbie was very interested in Biscuit's litterbox activities.  I thought "Oh, maybe she'll show him how to cover" (not that I care).  She crept over, raised a paw, and hissed at the poor baby as he sat there crapping.  The last thing I want is Biscuit running off and hiding, maybe to poop under the bed, so I squirted Torbie and yelled NO.  She ran off, Biscuit finished.  The girls don't even use the litter box.  They always go outside. 

One of the squirt bottles has a bad gasket, and drips a little when I squirt, but other than that they all work fine.  The kittens are continuing to work on Ron, who's fallen in love with them, using a special high-pitched "baby" voice I haven't heard in a while. 

We went to work, later in the day.  The late-shift employees loved it.  I paid a couple of refunds, and didn't - for the other vendor.  I felt bad for those people. 

We didn't need to stock much, it's a slow week.  Probably a good thing as the depression's been bad, the last couple days.  In fact, it got bad enough I took my medication at work. 

No one could tell, even Ron thought I was "fine".  I have learned to be a good faker, which is a mixed blessing.  On the one hand, people really don't want to hear about my problems (except you).  On the other hand, people exist who would want to know so they could give me a hug or whatever, but I'm "denying" them that. 

I will continue to "front", at least at work.  I feel it is more professional.  Of course this coming from the woman who shrieked "I'm going to get you" and chased Ron halfway across the cafeteria to whack him on the head with a piece of cardboard.  I also pretended to growl like vicious dog, and chased, a customer who teasingly stole a bag of pork rinds. 


So.  We had a good ride home, but when we arrived I was exhausted. 

I forgot to mention, our ride to work was very odd:  the driver was fine when she first pulled up, but when I came back out with Ron she was absolutely enraged about something, and drove like a demon trying to get out of hell.  She was very aggressive in her driving. 

Ron became so alarmed he actually called customer service and told them he was afraid for his safety.  I think the driver overheard, because she began driving more professionally. 

"I was about to ask them to send a supervisor" Ron said. 

Anyway, I went straight to bed.  I slept pretty well for a change.  The dog barked a lot while the family was up but shut up when they went to bed.  Poor dog.  My alleycat rescues get more attention and I'm "crazy". 

I got to sleep pretty late today (a day off).  We just went to Starbucks.  It is near a pet store, I went and bought more kitten food.  Everyone in the family likes the kitten food. 

They may not like the kittens, but sure like their food. 

I ate a snack and took my meds early, correctly figuring it was better to get a jump on them.  I couldn't find my Haldol, though, the pill pouch had opened up in my pocket.  I had lost a calcium tablet on the floor.  I figured maybe I dropped the Haldol. 

I had horrified visions of crawling toddlers eating my Haldol.  It's pretty toxic.  I finally found it in a wad of pocket lint, still in my possession.  [Sigh]  More drama than I wanted. 

So I'm firing pill pouches.  I'll put them in a small bottle instead. 

By the way, our driver was incredibly sick with a headcold.  That's why I stash a few (nondrowsy) remedies - I gave her some and sent her on the way.  Poor thing.  I hate it when I have to work sick (the contract drivers don't get medical benefits or sick leave). 

People need a lot of nurturing, and people who know me swear it's one of my spiritual gifts.  I'm sure Ron and the cats appreciate that! 

I took a nap.  I figure, days like this, take a nap and when I wake up the pills will have done some good.  I was right. 

I also try to get a lot of rest around cold/flu exposures so my immune system is tip-top. 

I had enough energy to attack my stick - I have to "varnish" it.  I have a spray can of clear, satin finish, polyurethane.  I also have an old t-shirt and jeans. 

By the way, I'm into the slimmer fitting jeans in my size (currently 22W).  Now I have 3 pair.  The old pair I use for yardwork (relaxed fit and very baggy on me now, also pretty frayed).  My "blue" standard wear everyday jeans, and the black jeans which fit beautifully.  I will need to wash off the cat hair, but they worked fine for today. 

I am happy to see practical weight loss.  I want to take care of myself (when I'm not depressed). 

A good example: my sister (an obese hoarder) recently had to have "emergency knee surgery".  I can imagine how that happened.  

Ron and I literally cannot afford that to happen.  Once I get my stick fixed up, I can go walking again. 

I don't want to be a walking target, anymore than I already am.  I divulge too much, including my real name.  I share a lot of details that make me easy to find; although I am exceptionally careful not to talk about my schedule. 

Anyway, time to go check my stick and see if it needs a second coat. 

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

I don't want a smartphone

I got a new phone today. 

For most of my cell phone life, I've had the bottom of the line, or close to it, except a brief flirtation with a basic-model smartphone 2011-2012. 

I found the smartphone annoying, the email alert was constantly alerting me to all the spam in my in-box.  The touchscreen was a hassle. 

My hands will shake, and/or "get dumb" at times, not working the way I'd like them to.  I can still work, blog, take care of myself, the cats, and Ron.  I'm OK.  But the touchscreen proved frustrating. 

When my old phone died I didn't cry, I just got a basic model flip phone, which I've used for 2 years.  It works fine. 

However, a lot of people in my family, and life, like to text.  I didn't have a touchscreen or a keyboard, so I went through ordeals of pressing buttons and selecting letters.  It's tiresome. 

Even my repairman likes to text. 

So, I had an eye out for a phone w/ keyboard.  I didn't have any joy.  They were all either completely basic models, similar to my own, or rocketship control panel smart phones. 

Did I mention I drop my phone?  A lot? 

I don't want a smartphone.  Tmobile had nothing. 

Amazon had nothing - nothing I wanted.  I was looking for an unlocked phone I could use with Tmobile, or a "proper" Tmobile phone. 

A few days ago, I got the bright idea to look at other phones - from other companies, and I quickly found this:  Altair 2.  Perfect.  Simple keyboard.  NOT a smartphone, but had music, video, camera, custom ringtones, etc. 

I told Ron about it, and the price, $50.  I saw they had really good plans starting at $25. 

I also saw they had a "switch" program with 4 free months for me, when I left Tmobile.  Am I married to them?  No. 

Today Ron wanted to go to the mall.  He likes one of the food vendors.  I was happy to take him because he's really been great about the kittens, etc.  He has also been really careful drinking. 

I looked around a little first, and found a Cricket kiosk.  I got a look at the phone, and liked it.  We ended up switching my account. 

Not only is the phone mine, and completely paid-for, I have a new plan for half the cost of the old.  Ron's happy.  I'm happy. 

Ron needs a feature called "Future delivery messaging" - where he can record a message and have it delivered to himself, in the future "Don't forget Heather has a doctor's appointment tomorrow".  It's a digital dayplanner.  He thought Tmobile was the only company to provide them - wrong. 

Ron can save a lot of money.  They even have a talking flip phone, which would be great for Ron.  His current plan is $50.  He could certainly go to the $25 like I have. 

Hey, money's money.  I don't mind saving. 

Speaking of money, one of the clients on our vehicle made a big production about us being self employed, with a lot of envious comments.  Hey, I pay for my life.  I battle complete insanity every hour of the day, and it's hell.  I have brain damage rendering me unable to drive.  Ron paid for our house with his own blood and mobility.  I have to be bright, smart, and clever in order to manage the vending machines, even when I feel like my brain's full of glue. 

We work hard, sweating our way through our workday (well, me, mainly).  I push heavy handcarts and deal with furious customers.  I earn my money, what I make, which is far less than they think. 

Everyone forgets we don't drive, so that thousand or so they are accustomed to putting into car expenses can pay other bills.  We can live a lot cheaper than you. 

Add to that, we only keep about 20% of what we make.  The rest goes to overhead, taxes, supplies, driver, program fees, etc. 

Sigh.  It's just tiresome.  Ron said, basically "I hate it when people ask me personal questions about my business.  It's none of your damned business and we're not rich." 

"What I hate" I added "is when someone wants us to hire someone completely unsuitable.  We own a business, therefore we're just going to hand out a paycheck to anyone.  If I hire someone, it's not going to be some guy with a felony theft record."  (Our last "referral")

Our driver got really upset, and tried to say that "stealing from a store" (or business!  Like OURS!) wasn't as bad as "Robbing someone at the corner".  I said yes, there are various legal definitions, but theft is theft, and "I'm not letting anyone with a theft problem near my merchandise."  She got all huffy. 

I guess she had the perfect candidate in mind, just like several of our other drivers.  Just once I'd like to have someone say "My cousin just got back from a 3 year mission trip to Guatemala, building houses for the poor.  He needs a part time job for a year or so before he goes back.  He has a truck, can work hard - like he did overseas, and was really impressed when I told him about you.  Even if you're not interested in him, he'd still like to meet you, Ron."  Sigh. 

However, should the need arise, I'm sure God will send him. 

About our driver, the last time we had her she complained she was really hungry.  Looking at her, I figured she probably had a blood sugar issue.  I scrounged something up and gave it to her (a pickup from home).  Today, she picked us up at the mall and was furious we hadn't bought her a meal. 

WTF?  I'm your waiter now? 

She pouted for miles.  I didn't care.  I was just happy I kept my mouth shut.  

As you know, occasionally, very occasionally, I will bag up candy with scripture booklets and hand that out to the drivers.  I get resentful, though, when a driver pulls up and demands candy before he even gets out of his seat.  I just tell them, sorry, I'm out, and leave Ron sitting on the curb as I sit down.  If they continue to complain, Ron will make acid comments about it not being our job to feed them, adults should bring their own lunch, etc. 

It's a gift - not an obligation.  I am not obligated to feed you just because you are driving me around.  You are making a living wage doing so.  Without us, you're unemployed.  If I choose to do something nice accept it, but don't demand it or you'll never see it again. 

Ugh.  I am obligated to assist Ron as needed, being his care provider; load my own packages, behave politely; and wear a seatbelt.  That's it.  Ron is required to provide ID and a proper fare, accept the restraints (they tie him up like a bad bondage movie, not that I've seen one, when he rides in the wheelchair), and behave politely while riding.  That's it. 

It's not our job to buy you lunches, hire your loser brother, and share all the mega-bucks you think we make.  Ha. 

They make a lot more than we do. 

Happily the headache's about gone now. 

My lunch, or my meds, taken soon after, triggered a pretty horrific headache.  I started my cycle yesterday so I don't know what's going on - I should be in my "easy" period without headaches. 

If that's the worst I'll take it. 

Monday, January 26, 2015

Pencil in some fun

I feel rich.  I got cuddles from both Torbie (my old lady) and Gravy (little boy) today.  As I held Gravy, I said "Look at your fat little tummy!"  Ron objected, I explained, for a cat starving a week ago, a fat little tummy is a very good thing. 

The boys have been great.  They are settling in wonderfully.  We just need to get them fixed.  I gave them their Advantage too. 

The Girls got their worm medicine (Baby Girl had tapeworms), and the vet wanted me to wait a few days before the Advantage for them - which I'll do tomorrow. 

The boys like to walk on my keyboard - that's the worst problem I've got.  They are keeping the 2 commandments: No biting.  No pissing. 

I scoop the boxes daily and keep it all fresh. 

The boys are indoors and I hope remain so.  I want them to get some street smarts before they venture outside. 

One of my drivers was having a tough time.  She brought us home.  Gravy got out when I opened the door so I brought him over (I know she likes cats).  She had a fun time petting him for a minute. 

Biscuit and Gravy like being held for short periods.  I am always careful to put them down before they struggle, so it's fun for them.  They are happy to be held and purr loudly. 

They are very bonded - I have never seen two animals with a tighter bond, and love to chase each other all over the house.  I approve, they're not bothering the Girls. 

I tend to get a little weird about the neighbors, and noise.  Last night I got a lot weird because it was actually quiet when I needed to sleep.  I slept pretty well. 

I got up at 3 AM and went to work.  We got our delivery.  The delivery guy was really nice.  I stocked, we didn't need much but sales are good.  I also helped Ron with his stuff. 

Wherever I am, "helping Ron" is part of it. 

We had the right amount of time to do everything without sitting around.  We had a good ride home. 

I had to help Ron with accounting stuff for a while (and just a while ago).  Then I got a nice nap.  I figured, sleep as late as I can, which I did.  It was about 3 hours.  Not bad considering I only got about 6 hours sleep the night before. 

I got up, moderately depressed... ate some pudding.  I forgot to mention Biscuit is very pushy when it comes to people food.  He loves any kind of dairy. 

I kept pushing him away, then I let him have the traces of pudding in the container.  I took my medication and watched a little TV.  Organized a little.  Sat down, ended up with Torbie in my lap for an hour and a half.  That was awesome. 

I got pretty stiff about the time she moved.  She's a very perceptive cat. 

Pudding and lithium are a bad duo.  I got pretty queasy.  When Torbie left I drank some Pepto.  

Gravy thought the lap looked fun, so I got some attention from him, too.  I also watched them curled up together on the couch as I had Torbie in my lap, 18 inches away. 

I don't want a lot of cats.  God knows I don't want any more.  I do have a family, though. 

Still tired; still depressed.  The two, of course, are related. 

I'll try to pencil in some "fun" tomorrow. 

Sunday, January 25, 2015

None of my business

Yesterday morning, I head the puppy whining and yelping around 3  AM.  "I thought we were past this", I thought irritably, as I rolled over and went back to sleep.  I got ready for work - truck day, and made sure I had my "spiffy" neon green back brace with matching suspenders. 

As I left the house, I realized the "Mom" mobile was gone next door.  Ah, they must have left early.  Why does a Mom leave the house at 3 AM?  Either she, or the baby is sick.  Flu is EVERYWHERE, and you may recall me mentioning she looked pretty rough the other day. 

I put up a prayer request, because God does want us to pray for everyone in need, especially those (we feel) aggravate us.  Done.  I also prayed some after I went to bed. 

The vehicle is back today, so I guess they are alright.  I just pray whoever it is recover from whatever it is, quickly. 

I did have a question for a driver yesterday.  "Everytime the kids next door go out to play, one of the little ones always gets hurt and cries for 10 minutes or so.  Is that normal?" 

She said, she thought so, especially if the big kids were playing rough.  I do know this, in my childhood I never came in crying and injured, playing with my older (step) siblings.  I'd get my bumps and scrapes at school (one bully liked to push me down on the asphalt).  Never, to my recollection, while playing with "the sibs".   The worst thing they'd do is "ditch" me, run off and hide so I couldn't pester them. 

Huh.  Opinions?  And yes, it's none of my damned business. 

I did find it sad, while the kids were playing "outside", they were on the trampoline.  The dog was left to run around on the ground as the kids played on the bouncer.  I don't see a lot of kid & dog interaction, which is really sad for a family with 6 kids. 

[sigh]  I do wonder what will happen this year, with the dog. 

So we went to the warehouse.  I got Ron's stuff, and mine. 

We got the stuff loaded, went to work, unload.  The guys (Ron and our driver) were cold.  I get very warm when I am active, thanks to menopause/Wellbutrin so I loved it.  I unloaded onto 2 handcarts and a long folding handcart. 

We went into work, and stocked it.  The bottled vendor was naughty but I fixed it - I had to remove the coin mechanism assembly, turn it upside down, and whack it, to get out some jammed coins.  It worked, I pray.  I hope it worked.   I pray a lot over vending machines. 

When we left, everything looked good.  We came home.  The kids were making a huge uproar next door, but it's a nice day and at least one parent was gone (they had a babysitter). 

Ron had scheduled a "date night" at Carl's Jr.  I accepted.  We had a nice date.  He felt the Teriyaki Chicken, while "good", wasn't something he'd order again.  He remarked the BBQ chicken was better.  "Remember" I told him "You last ate that 23 years ago" - it's just about 23 years since we met. 

I had my favorite Western Bacon Cheeseburger.  In fact, 22 years ago I had a terrible kidney infection.  Fever of 104.  A week in the hospital horribly queasy and vomiting, on IV antibiotics. 

The minute I was released, my appetite regained, I had the cab go through the Carl's Jr drive through and got a double Western. 

We had a good time, just the right amount, and a good ride home.  It was pretty quiet.  I basically went to bed early after doing cat care stuff. 

With 4 cats, I have to clean that litter every day.  I have 4 boxes.  If I could figure out where to put another, I would.  They seem OK though. 

The boys were cute and cuddly.  They make a lot of noise when they play so Ron can hear them, he loves it.  They were raising hell in the bathtub this morning. 

Gravy had an abscess by his tail, so Ron can feel the scar, and tell them apart.  If someone wants a cuddle, though, I just give it to them.  I don't have to know who's who every second of the day.  It's a baby.

Gravy has a white and gray tail.  Biscuit's is solid gray.  

I called Mom and Dad, went to bed. 

I slept pretty well.  I won't get enough sleep tonight, as we have to get up very early tomorrow.  If it were truly miserable weather, I could probably manage, but people will be up, active, and making noise on a nice weekend day.  I'm surprised it's so quiet now. 

We do have a trip to Home Depot.  I want some seeds, and some polyurethane spray for my walking stick (hasn't arrived yet). 

I'm glad I ordered the walking stick.  The health department is reporting a stray lab mix (dog) tested positive for rabies. 

Some of my seeds arrived yesterday and went in the fridge.  Heat, light, and moisture will kill seeds, that's why it's important to buy them the minute you can.  Don't buy them off a rack that's been sitting outside in the garden center, in full sun. 

I know I want to grow some pole beans and a collard this year.  One collard provides more than enough greenery for me, I pick off bottom leaves only, which allows the plant to keep growing.  It takes them a couple of years in our climate, before they'll go to seed.  "Georgia" has been very productive for me. 

For pole beans, a "Rattlesnake" - did great, years ago; and "Kentucky Blue" - a new hybrid of two old favorites that has everyone raving.  I can manage a collard and pole beans, especially since I have a yard guy. 

I might throw a kale in there, too.  I like the red kale.  It is very rugged - that one got over 5 feet tall, completely neglected, in a drought, and lived for several years. 

Imagine what it'd do with proper care. 

Friday, January 23, 2015

Let's go to the doctor

I woke up with two sweet little kittens.  The dog was pretty quiet last night.  It made some noise after I got up, but I reminded myself "Hey, you're already up.  Shut up.  It could be a lot worse." 

I had a nice shower and God Time. 

The cats are all very healthy per the vet.  She did treat them for worms, which I suspected.  They don't have earmites, though, but fleas.  Easy enough to treat with Advantage.  Kitten blood test came back negative for cat AIDS.  Stool test came back negative for all bad things.  The big girls, however, have tapeworm (I knew, as I'd seen some traces), also easily fixed with Advantage. 

I was right, should have brought a kitten turd.  She'd love one next time (the vet).  Seems like an odd gift. 

All the cats loved the vet and were pretty well behaved.   We got free Kitten Advantage.  I also bought plenty for the girls. 

The kittens had "pretty bad" fleas.  Biscuit screamed when the vet held him down for a blood sample.  Poor Gravy got probed, I held him after, and got poop on my shirt.  Oh, well. 

I have a lot of reasons to wear cheap clothes.  I'll wash it out, if I can't, I'll toss it. 

Ron had a very bad night with neuropathy; which is absolutely related to the drinking.  We went to Walmart first this morning.  We came home and spent a couple of hours.  Ron got the appointment time mixed up, thought it was 3.  He told me to put the cats in the carriers at 2.  I did.  Then he got upset and said he meant "more like 2:30".  He had been drinking when we got home from Walmart and fell asleep with his phone off.  Then he didn't check his messages.

The appointment was at 2.  The office called and said not to come in, they had an emergency (something involving a dog, I'd guess, because of the barking).

Ron, in the meantime, thinks our appointment is 3.  Has told me so, as well.  Has called for a cab.  The guy who picked up clearly hated cats.  They always do when I'm traveling with a cat.

I couldn't fit the wheelchair in the trunk.  For some reason, it just didn't work.  I was ready to scream.  I had 4 cats screaming in their carriers, an aggravated cab driver, and Ron yelling.  I finally traded the wheelchair for the walker, which worked fine.  

You can imagine the scene when we showed up.  The vet was pretty pissed, so were the staff.  They were still very professional and nice to the cats. 

We all got to wait in an exam room for 2 hours.  4 cats and two humans.  

We had the visit/exam. 

The vet told us not to get any more cats.  I didn't want the last two, but I couldn't leave them to die. The shelters still have a pretty high kill rate.  Biscuit and Gravy are very bonded - it would be cruel to break them up. 

I don't feel bad about taking them; and what we paid for the exam, etc, they're certainly "ours" now.  They are 4 pounds, not 2.  They are about 4 months old, twice what I thought.  They purred at the vet right after she gave them shots, and let her sneak a cuddle. 

Torbie and Baby Girl were surprisingly good.  They just cringed a little at first, allowed petting, and  actually enjoyed the contact.  The vet kept talking about our nice cats. 

Yup, they're good babies. 

Happily, we had a much better trip home. 

It's just a little sad and frustrating for me: Ron caused this whole drama because he chose to drink and be irresponsible today.  He caused all today's physical pain because he won't stop drinking; and I've told him drinking aggravates neuropathy. 

I need a day off after my day off.  Tomorrow is truck day. 

Thursday, January 22, 2015


Well, the cats are going great.  The kittens raised all sorts of hell while we went to work.  I came home to find my pill organizer on the floor, pills everywhere.  The kittens seem fine so I don't think they ate any. 

I slept pretty well, one "bark attack" next door last night, for a while.  "I think" I told Ron "The dog gets excited when he sees the humans awake, and starts barking".  None of the other neighborhood dogs bark at the same time, so, to me, it's a personal issue.  Overall it is very quiet.  It's a friendly breed. 

#6 (the man) stayed home today and had another car over while his wife ran errands.  The dog was very quiet, so I was happy. 

I slept in, until about 8.  I did my God Time and opted against a workout.  I have played around the edges of a headache all day. 

Ron's cat came back in the house, and has been supervising kitten play.  She isn't acting fearful, or aggressive, anymore.  My cat actually lay down on the couch with the kittens.  She'd hiss if they touched her, but she was sniffing them (Ron's cat is also sniffing).  Very promising. 

The food aggression (growling at nearby cats while eating) has also abated.  Good. 

Even better, we went to work, and got the vending machine fixed!  The repairman came by anyway to check my work (I always welcome a second opinion).  He made a minor adjustment.  I saw several people getting their bottled sodas tonight so I'm happy.  My other machines looked fine, but I loaded the cold food machine. 

I figure with lousy, cold, weather, we might get a little more business.

One guy came up to us and asked us, point blank, why we "work those hours when you don't have to.  Why don't you just work mornings only?" 

"You're here!" I told him.  He grinned. 

The way I see it, and I love this about Ron, he agrees: if my business is open 24/7, if my customers are there 24/7, on three shifts, I need to be there for all of them.  I don't need to work 24 hours a day.  But I need to work varying times of day to ensure I am serving everyone. 

The customers really appreciate it. 

And, overall, they're really a fun bunch. 

I was glad we handled all that.

Our ride home was horrific.  1.  The driver played head games.  If you told her to turn left, she'd go straight, and then get an attitude at you for "giving bad directions" or "Why didn't you tell me?"  2.  She kept promulgating cult doctrine.  Ick.  3.  She got very confused, very easily, and wouldn't let it go, working herself into hysterias then going back to the head games.  4.  Massive attitude, about EVERYTHING.  5.  She also made some nasty, envious, remarks when she saw our house.  We have a very modest home.  It's a nice neighborhood, but a very modest home. 

She rode us around for over and hour and 40 minutes, for a trip that ought to have taken a half hour. 

It was exhausting.  Ron began getting queasy from her driving style - very lurchy - sudden swerves to the left and right, and histrionics while driving. 

Ron told her he was queasy and she suddenly became a lot more professional, getting us home in 10 minutes.  That's really frustrating. 

Some, a very small percentage, of drivers decide to abuse what little "power" they have, forcing the clients to endure pointlessly long trips, tirades, dramatics, head games, verbal abuse, etc.  They never last. 

Ron and I recently found out we can call and make a request, not to get the driver again.  We did so.

So, I got home and now it's practically bedtime.  Tomorrow should be interesting.  I will tell you more as it happens.  

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

I have lived in very bad neighborhoods.  In one, I had to cross the street when I went home everyday because the pit bull kept trying to eat my face.  It was extremely aggressive.  Most alarming, it could "almost" get over the fence. 

We called the landlord and asked him to "do a check, so you don't get sued".  I actually witnessed the landlord park his vehicle, walk over to the fence, and look into the "yard".  The dog came right at him and the guy had to leap back.  They were evicted that day. 

Other times, I'd find a guy with a large, aggressive dog, on my walk.  No leash.  It would act in a very menacing manner, hackles up, growling, and the owner would say "Oh, he won't bite."  Then laugh. 

Yeah, you aren't even here legally.  You have absolutely zero assets.  What do you care if he bites?  I can't sue you.  

These were always terrible neighborhoods; where an aggressive dog is a status symbol.

We bought a house.  Homeowners keep their dog in the yard.  Every now and then I'll see some little yapper that dug his way out, but overall no problems. 

Until yesterday.  I went for a walk around 6 AM.  I had one of my nasty PMS headaches.  I figured a walk was very low impact and safe. 

My back was very cranky last week.  I didn't want to do anything to aggravate it, either. 

I had a good walk for 20 minutes, went all over the subdivision looking for "lost kitten" posters, which of course I didn't find.  I had to look, though.  I walked down to one end of the subdivision, then came back.  I live about halfway. 

I was preparing to keep walking, up to the park, when I heard a very menacing growl.  Pit bulls.  Aggressive ones.  Two. 

Now, I know many pit bulls are wonderful and loving animals.  I don't hate the breed - but when they are in the care and keeping of someone who thinks it is "cool" and "fun" to have an aggressive dog, and makes them that way, they are a thing of horror. 

I did what has worked in my experience: yelled No! in an assertive manner.  I made myself bigger, putting my arms out to the sides and raising my shoulders.  I stood my ground and looked near them, but not at their eyes.  They growled some and came towards me, but I yelled NO again and stomped my foot.  I made myself bigger. 

This may not be "the proper" way to deal, but it has served me well with dozens of loose, aggressive, dogs. 

These stood, watching me for a minute, then left.  I walked home, watching the dogs to make sure they didn't come up behind me.  Happily I was literally 80 feet from home. 

I then had Ron call animal control, who came out immediately.  Lots of small children wait for the schoolbus on corners in the subdivision.  They did not want to end up on the news.


But it got me thinking.

1.  I read a book on improvised weapons.  It strongly suggested carrying a big stick when you walk.
2.  I see tons of people, walking, carrying sticks, around here.
3.  I took it to a message board I respect and they agreed, good idea.

So, I bought a stick.  It's only about $19 with shipping.  I can finish it myself with some of this: Spray finish .  I went through a huge woodstaining phase back in 2006 and feel I know most aspects pretty well.  I'll have fun with it and I can use the leftovers on the gate.

Problem solved.  It should also keep away Bad People.  

Mixed bag

Well, it's been a mixed bag. 

The dog next door (sounds like a bad Hallmark movie) has been barking some, at night.  Not tremendously so, but enough that Mom-of-6-and-a-new-baby is looking VERY exhausted and frazzled.  Worse, actually, than I have ever seen her.  As I see it, she's the weak link.  I doubted she wanted the animal, and if it's keeping her and the baby awake... 

If I felt they would be good owners I'd be rooting for a happy ending.  However, they have, as yet, left a small puppy alone in the yard 24/7, even when it was raining and in the 30's.  The husband played with it 5 minutes when he got home from work (I counted) then went in the house and ignored it.  I never even heard the kids playing with it today, but when they do they spend more time on the trampoline than interacting with the dog. 

I don't see that treatment resulting in a mannerly, quiet, dog.  It's also a small, cat-sized, "cute" animal.  I don't think it's going to be as much "fun" when it hits 30-40 pounds (it's a lab so it will get big!), jumping on the kids and knocking them down.  A lot of adolescent dogs get surrendered to the shelter for just that reason - it isn't cute anymore, and they can't manage it. 

I seriously considered a dog when we bought the house.  I did a lot of research and read several books, finally concluding I wasn't able to give a dog what it would need: consistency, training, discipline, exercise, etc.  

Speaking of shelters, one of the rescues got back and said sorry, can't help.  They did like my rescue story, though.  The kittens have been doing very well, I think. One is having some kind of maniacal fit by my feet right now, but the girls have been more accepting. 

Torbie just, and I mean, just, spent about an hour with me doing God Time, lap time, petting, good cuddles.  She's "fine". 

Ron's cat is having more issues, but is greeting the kittens and smelling them, with good posture and body language.  I think she just doesn't know what to do with them. 

Her behavior has changed some as a result, which has Ron in hysterics.  He doesn't do well with change, I'm realizing.  I think he'll come around.  If not I will have to rehome them. 

At worst, whatever I find will be better than them starving in the woods, getting run over (they had no street smarts), or getting kicked to death by Mean People. 

Thump.  Thump. Crash!  God help the gnat that gets on our property.  That's the nice thing about "good hunter" cats.  You will never have to worry about pest control - they'll get everything from gnats to squirrels.  Bubba even brought me a wild rabbit one time. 

As far as I see it, my only problem is Biscuit's terrible gas.  Oh, those farts will kill you, and he's such a little guy.  They smell like a septic tank mated a garbage truck.  WHEW. 

I don't mind them running around while I sleep, and if you've been reading a while I'm sure that's surprising.  But that's happy background noise, and I'm used to sleeping through kittens.  Just in Houston, I had Shadow (breast cancer), Midi (became a vicious biter so I had to surrender him), Baby Girl the first (poisoned by "a neighbor" - whatever I have now, it's a lot better than my former neighbors), my current Baby Girl (still kicking), and the kittens. 

Ron asked me to lock up the kittens so Baby Girl "feels safe".  I think, unfortunately the "cat doesn't love me" problem is my fault.  I put some cat food in a small bowl in the living room.  I saw BG come in tonight and eat the food, then leave. 

Our old setup had the foodbowls on Ron's dresser, so they had to walk past him to get the food.  Ron could greet them, get some affection, etc. 

I put the living room (really just the front room) food in the bedroom. 

Regarding my house layout, I have, essentially, a "shotgun house" - basically one room wide, with a hallway, deep but not wide.  On the front of the house, I have a 10 foot wide garage, then inside a kitchen/foyer about 15 feet wide.  As you walk in the house you enter the front room - the main room, about 15 feet square.  I have a dining alcove in this room, then a hallway that runs along the left wall to the back of the house.  The computer room runs in the middle, then, across the back, from left to right, my room, bathroom, Ron's room.  I like it. 

I don't have living/dining all that.  I'm fine with that. 

So, I had to redirect the kittens a few times while typing.  They have a lot of energy.  Ron wants them locked up in my room tonight which I find rather alarming. 

The frantic play wouldn't be such an issue if they had outside access, but, pardon me, they are dumb as rocks.  They play in the street.  They walk right up to abusive strangers.  I don't want them outside. 

I have a pit bull behind me.  I could just see one of the kittens squirming through the fence, walking up to the dog, and saying "Hi!  Will you be my friend?"  [facepalm]  We are not close to busy traffic but we are near a T intersection. 

Baby Girl was a lot smarter.  She figured out the cat door on her own, in a day or two (these guys are oblivious).  She's clever. 

These guys are not - although they may just need a little time to recuperate.  If/when the figure out the cat door, they figure it out.  I assume God will only allow that to happen when they're ready. 

Speaking of ready, this morning we went to work very early - 4 AM pickup.  The driver pulled up, backed up, making loud beeping noises, and had the dispatch radio pretty loud.  Normally I would run out, having hysterics, and beg her to be quiet, neighbors, etc. 

Not so much lately.  I don't want the drivers to disturb them, but if they do I don't yell at the driver, either. 

The driver loudly greeted Ron as I rounded up the kittens.  I didn't run out, either. 

I do my best to be quiet.  If someone else wants to be rude, that's on them.  One time I asked the driver to turn the radio down, and she yelled "Why?  It's not that loud!" 

Surprisingly, the dog is fine with the paratransit vehicles.  I guess, for the dog, it's just daily scenery. 

We got to work and paid a refund.  I found it telling.  We paid our refund within a day of the phone call.  I was accosted by an employee while working at the fridge, out on the work floor.  She was very upset at the other vendor, who she feels is ducking her refund.  I had to explain, I'm sorry, that's not me.  She is the skinny white lady with short hair.  I didn't state the obvious, I'm the fat white lady with long hair. 

All my people look alike.  :p 

It took a while for her to understand: two vendors.  "Mine" is the "wheelchair" in the cafeteria.  The other guy has 30-some machines everywhere else. 

I stocked and all the machines looked really great. 

But.  I had a problem. 

Ron and I forgot to empty the change bucket on the bottled vendor.  It backed up all the way along the path, causing a massive coin jam.  I thought I got it, but I didn't.  I think I just need to remount it. 

Worst case, the repairman is coming out anyway for the other vendor, so he can run by and "get" us.  Either way: fixed tomorrow. 

But it was embarrassing. 

Monday, January 19, 2015

Spread it

This morning, I looked at our paratransit driver, and the folded wheelchair.  "Uh, I don't know how to say this" I told her "But you need to spread it."  She began laughing hysterically.

I didn't sleep well but I was OK with it (a recent development).  The neighbor's dog was barking and yelping right outside my bedroom, but, as I reminded myself, right outside their bedroom.  They have a 1-story.  The husband works 12 hour days.   They have a newborn!  That's got to be awful. 

It's small and cute right now - I doubt they will find it as interesting when it starts tearing up the yard, especially if it keeps barking all night, too.

I also thought it was really sad, as I laid my hand on my two little rescue kittens.  They were warm and cozy on a soft wool blanket.  One kept nursing on a stuffed animal.  They had an abundance of food, treats, toys, and petting.  They even have other cats to keep them company.  These are throwaway "alley" cats.

Contrast the other side of the wall; a lonely purebed puppy left alone in the cold, neglected (they feed him but that's about it, no "social" except a little playtime with the kids now and then - and they seem a lot more into their trampoline), and sad.  While my guys couldn't be happier.

It just goes to show, it isn't always the animal, but the human tending it.  

I woke up with a headache, but was quite pleased with my remedy.  I had a 17 ounce Diet Mountain Dew and two aspirin tablets.  It works very effectively and I didn't need to take anything else.

My pharmacist told me aspirin is the best choice for me, taking my cocktail.  I may take some tonight as a prophylactic (wow spelled right on the first shot!), so I don't wake up with one tomorrow.

We went to work.  It was pretty slow, of course, being a holiday, but we had a delivery. We got that all done, came home. 

I went to do my God Time, then remembered I had, already.  The kittens had a can of cat food (I plan to free feed dry grain free kitten food and supplement with canned).  I hung out for a little bit and we went to the pet store. 

[sigh]  Well, that wasn't cheap.  The kitten food was on sale, $17 for 5 pounds, but it's grain free, very nourishing, and very filling.  I got some toys, canned food, and an incline scratcher. 

I came home, fed the dry food, and opened the scratcher.  The kittens demolished the toy inside while I napped.  When I got up, I made it better. 

I had a good nap. 

Ahhh... you shouldn't have asked for photos. 

 Two brothers. 

About an hour after I brought them home. 

Biscuit likes Ron, and his treats. 

Biscuit is mostly white with maybe 20% gray, shorthair, with changing eyes.  They'll either be brown or green.  He has cute little pink paws, pink nose, white whiskers. 

Gravy seems to like me a little better.  He is a tad food aggressive but easy to put a few bowls down and keep everyone happy.  If I had been starving out in the woods I'd be food aggressive too.  He gets a little growly if another cat approaches while he's eating. 

Gravy has a gray and white tail, same eyes, nose, and whiskers.  He has a little more white on him, too. 

Torbie, my older cat, is pretty used to them.  I thought she'd have the most trouble.  Baby Girl "Ron's Cat" has been more petulant and timid, but is also coming around. 

Treats all around - a great equalizer.  We all like treats, lets build on that. 

The kittens make great sleep partners, "letting" me sleep.  They do walk around some, and I hear them eating, but I don't mind.  They're good boys. 

They are also *completely awesome* as regards the litter box.  Good boys!  

Sunday, January 18, 2015

See them safe

Last night Ron asked me to keep the kittens in my room, as I slept, with the door shut.  I did. 

They were very well behaved.  I heard a lot of munching noises throughout the night, then litter box, jump in the bed and cuddle... a while later I'd wake up to munching noises. 

Poor little guys. 

After gorging themselves all night, they weighed 2 pounds this morning.  I was down another half a pound. 

The kittens were great cuddle partners, I slept pretty well (except for my back yelling at me, and some gas cramps); unlike Torbie, the kittens sleep off to the side, not on top of me. 

I did wake up with a nasty headache.  It's one of those "my mouth tastes like onions" headaches.  We had a trip planned to Walmart. 

I took a shower, and talked with Ron about the cats.  He says he would like to keep them.  Good.  We can get them fixed for $30 each at the county shelter.  Male surgery is a lot easier, they just open the sac, yank, and snip. 

They use the box, are sweet, I've got no problem keeping them.  My only desire is to see them safe.

I thought about staying home but #6 was out in force; it's a nice day and every child was yelling and screaming in the yard.  That's what kids do.  I hope not everyone is like me.  I would make a really good hermit out on 50 acres. 

It's a nice day, cabin fever, they went for quite a while.  Might as well go to Walmart.

I got everything I needed, except one (ear mite medicine for poor old Biscuits, he is scratching himself bloody like Frosty, when I found him).  That's another reason I'm sure they're strays and not pets - horrid case of earmites on Biscuits.  Gravy is food aggressive.

Why those names?  Well, for some unknown reason, Ron told me the cat with the white and gray tail was "Gravy".  That was his name.  Ron was adamant (poor Gravy has an abrasion on his tail, from the kicking).

I can live with Gravy.  But, to me, that meant the other one HAD to be Biscuits.  Biscuits and Gravy.

They don't care what I call them.  They're sacked out on the couch after a day full of food and play. 

"We may not be the best" I told Ron "But we're better than what they had; kind of like after your accident.  I know I wasn't the best option, but I was the only one." 

Hell of a lot better than starving, being beaten, or run over on a very busy street. 

They do need some appropriate food, if we're keeping them.  I got some canned food, more litter (the 38 pound "Cat lady" size), toys, and a folding carrier.  I put treats in the carrier so the boys can get used to it. 

They will need their operation in a few months. 

Ron wanted some headphones and snack food.  Since I had the headache, I didn't get much. 

We came home.  I wanted a nap, neighbors still at it.  Bad headache, even with the tablets. 

I pulled out the computer room sofa (much to the kittens' delight), and laid down for a while.  Gravy joined me. 

I ran a few loads of laundry, watching TV. 

We have to work tomorrow but not long.  Then off to the pet store for ear mite drops - poor guy is miserable - and maybe a coffee. 

I hope I can lose the headache. 

Saturday, January 17, 2015

I couldn't leave them

Activities so far regarding the kittens:
Investigated several cat shelters/rescues, 5 of which won't take the boys.  I put in a tragic email to the other ones. 

Investigated lost pets on BARC, Greensheet, Craigslist, Humane Society, and Facebook.  Found nothing. 

Called a cat lover friend who might take them.  They're sweet boys. 

Ron varies from "take them to a shelter" to "we should keep them". 

I don't have a strong preference either way (although I can get them fixed for cheap, when the time comes), as long as they are safe.  A rescue would work if they are interested. 

Kittens getting kicked at the bus stop... who wouldn't say yes? 

I sure couldn't leave them there. 

Mugged by kittens.

Most interesting handout ever. Why, you may ask.

Well, as I stood waiting on the bus I got jumped by some abandoned stray kittens. They could smell "sucker" a mile off. They meowed. They rubbed against my legs. They climbed me like a tree. One climbed to my shoulder and sat, like some demented fashion accessory, watching traffic.

When the bus came, they tried to board as well. I screamed "No!" (It's a very busy street) and, "Shut it (the door)!" at the driver.

I went.. I had a shoulder bag and 21 Bibles, most of them very nice "Gift and award" Bibles from a sponsor. I had several Spanish paperback New Testaments, and a few English as well.

I brought a small Free Bibles sign, about 2 feet wide. I was aiming for more of a stealth strike, plus my back has been a little iffy.

I handed out 3 on the bus.  :)  

I set up on the corner of W Little York and Antoine. I handed out 11 Bibles in the first light cycle. I had Spanish, English, Black, you name it. Everyone loved the Bibles. One lady liked hers so much she shouted for another one (I was a ways off), then refused to move when the light changed, so she could get it. "They gonna have to wait!" I had a couple "Parent and Child" pairs, some dating couples (what a great thing to add to your relationship!), and plenty of singles.. An older black gentlemen honked and waved in approval as he passed. Pretty soon, I was nearly out. I decided to call it a day, but got stopped by one more recipient even after I put my sign away. I handed him one of the last Bibles and headed off to Burger King.

The manager knew me, I guess she saw me today, or on the last handout. I had a good lunch and ran to the drugstore.

While there, I (sigh) bought a can of cat food. When I got to the bus stop, a woman told me she had been "kicking it" (one of the kittens) and hoped I was "getting rid of it".

I opened the cat food and watched sadly as they devoured the entire thing in seconds. They got dumped. The one lady made it pretty clear she had a permanent solution for pesky kittens, so I brought them home.

I've emailed a rescue.

Addicted Jackass

Well, no noise last night.  I still had an awful time falling asleep. 

If I had to guess, maybe they gave the dog back to the breeder?  Didn't like the yelping anymore than I did?  If it was keeping me up, I'm sure it bothered them, and they're already waking up a couple times a night for the new baby. 

One thing I've learned, sleep deprivation really is a cruel torture. 

I'm not calling it "done" for a couple days though.  Ron mentioned they might have been dogsitting.  Possible, but I would be pretty ticked if you left my puppy out in the cold and rain for a couple nights in a row. 

So, finally blessed sleep.  I was pretty happy about that. 

I did have a "problem" when Torbie came and lay on my pelvis.  I flip back and forth in bed, pretty hard to do with a 15 pound cat on my pelvis!  But I didn't want to disturb her.  I lay in bed, miserable. 

My back was also spasming a little.  I won't be lifting anything for a few days.  The back issue, combined with the cat, was causing a fair amount of discomfort.  I pulled out from under her and slept next to her, but she didn't like that and left. 

Bummer.  But I did sleep pretty well. 

I plan to eat a lot of protein and take it easy, the next few days. 

I was awakened by Ron and his digital recorder.  He thinks, because he can barely hear things, that I can't hear them either.  He got verbally abusive, called me "weird" and "The princess and the pea" because I simply asked him to please listen on headphones.  I didn't tell him to stop; just asked him to listen on headphones.  I used the word please and I was polite. 

I think Ron felt it was a non-issue, I "could have slept through it if I wanted" - it's pretty loud, like touch tones on a landline phone.  I think he also felt I was trying to "dominate and control" him. 

Why would I bother with that?  He just gets abusive if he even perceives me "controlling" him. 

Ugh.  I reminded myself, though, he is cutting way back on the alcohol, and when he does that, he gets mean.  Does that make it OK?  Absolutely not.  It makes him an addicted jackass.  He can't/won't admit he has a problem yet. 

The pattern goes like this: blackout, remorse, vows to stop drinking vodka.  Because vodka's the problem, not all alcohol.  Not Ron. 

He gets very irritable because he isn't getting his "fix".  He overdrinks the "lighter" stuff to compensate.  He decides "It's too expensive to keep drinking this way" and "It makes me piss all night" so he decides he can "go back to vodka".  "Just one sip".  One sip being a half cup at a time, and he forgets how many he's had. 

One night he "accidentally" had 3 "sips" (he had told me he would keep it to two or less, but I've seen him drinking far more than that on a regular basis).  He came to me and apologized in advance, he was going to have a terrible blackout, because he had "that third sip". 

I wanted to tell him he was drinking, on average, 8 shots a night, I didn't think 3/4 his normal total would be an issue.   I just said we'd see and of course he didn't.  He had the blackout a couple nights later. 

He's been going through a half gallon every week or so, as near as I can tell.  That's not counting "Uncle Dick's Margarita Mix" - already premixed.  He has that also "because I like the taste". 

I do make the occasional rude joke about Ron wanting some *ick. 

I've seen all this come out of the alcohol - all the abuse, so I think a lot of it stems from his addiction.  It does not excuse verbal abuse in any fashion.  It doesn't make it OK.

I'm the only one who has stuck around - over 22 years of blackouts, falling on the floor, haranguing me all night long, verbal abuse, cheating, sacrificed my career to help him run his business (all my coworkers thought I was an idiot), stuck with him after the accident (I never say this to Ron, any of it) - when everyone was telling me to run like hell, and sometimes I think I should have, do all the heavy labor so he has a job, business, and home - and I get treated like this?  

He will never find anyone who'll do more for him than me.  He should be on his knees thanking God for me every day.   

Do I want that?  No.  It's more what I don't want.  I don't want verbal abuse and tantrums because I need to sleep!  At 6 AM on a Saturday! 

God, I never thought I'd marry an alcoholic.  When Ron and I were dating, he said "He didn't drink at all" (I think now because he was very poor and literally couldn't afford it, I also think he didn't have anyone to take him to the liquor store) and "had some bad experiences with alcoholics, so he hated people who abused alcohol."  I believed it.  I was 17, insane, and "very naive" per a school report.  

It's funny though.  One thing he'll do when he's being abusive: you wanted a ride?  Well, I'm cancelling it!  You don't get to go on your outing! 

This is why I live on a bus line - and always will.  Good luck making me suffer.   I don't need "your" ride, I can take a cab, or the bus. 

Yesterday he had a huge craving to go out and do things this weekend.  He made several trips.  He cancelled all of them today to "punish" me for objecting to his digital player noise. 

So, now he's got nothing to do. 

After I do my workout (down a total of 25 pounds from summer/fall last year), shower, and God Time, I plan to hit the road. 

Let him stew in his own juice. 

Friday, January 16, 2015

43 cases - I have tweezers

10 minutes ago found me standing in shock, an earplug cord in my hand, one earplug firmly lodged in my ear.  I couldn't believe it, after the last couple days, I just wanted to try on my earplugs, and the removal cord comes out in my hand? 

I had a brief moment of panic.  How would I get the thing out?  I felt it.  In pretty deep, as suggested.  Ron, hate to say it, useless.  In addition to a bad hand he's blind and already had a beer so - no. 

God reminded me - I have tweezers.  I dug them out of my first aid kit (which I keep in a plastic toolbox).  I took a deep breath.  Inserted the tweezers.  Felt around for the best grip, one above, one below, started to pull - and it's out. 

Last night was pretty awful, the night before even worse.  Totally sleep deprived both nights.  Once due to "drunk", once due to puppy. 

I ended up sleeping on my pull out in the computer room.  Have I mentioned it is profoundly uncomfortable?  Not only that, it's not so easy for a middle aged fat lady to basically get up off the floor to pee.  Again.  [snort] 

Happily, my cat did camp out next to my head, available for lots of petting and cuddles.  She always knows when I truly need her.  

As advised, I did call the police with a noise complaint.  They came out, I don't know if they got the neighbors to put up the dog.  I do know 2 people, at different time periods last night, tried to open my gate, which is blocked shut.  I was very glad I had done such a "paranoid" thing (per Ron). 

It's enough to make me think about getting my own dog.  I assume the police got it one time, and a neighbor got it another time, trying to "find the noise". 

I woke up exhausted, but still did my shower and God Time.  I have really been neglecting my God Time, which leaves me vulnerable, I feel. 

I was glad I was already prayed up when I left the house, heard yelping nearby, and turned to find a cute golden retriever puppy - NEXT DOOR.  This is right on my bedroom wall - this has been my ongoing worst nightmare - #6 gets a dog. 

I also felt like a real jackass for blaming #8.  They are blameless.  Ron called the HOA and they said they hadn't mailed the letters. 

Oh.  However, now all my options have dissolved.  They only have the one animal.  They are allowed 2.  Not only that, they own.  I can't tattle to the landlord (one of my techniques, because most landlords don't want the liability or property damage issues).  I looked into the big brown eyes, so adorable, as the dog whined pitifully for attention. 

Oh, I thought.  I hope we don't have problems.  They have never had a dog, so I assume they might get tired of it; dogs requiring a lot of work.  They already have 6 kids.  The kids can wear it out playing, some, but I don't envision them doing a lot of dog care chores. 

Sigh.  On the positive side, it is a Golden.  It's certainly not going to be vicious, or eat my cats. 

I imagine Baby Girl (Ron's cat) is thrilled.  She loves dogs. 

We went to the warehouse.  I got 43 cases, 31 of which were drinks.  Heavy.  I could barely push the cart and I like to think I'm pretty strong.  If I had to, I can pick Ron up off the floor, etc. My back was already unhappy (not structural, just muscular - my lats) from sleeping on the floor, etc. 

I went outside to wait on our friend, who was an hour late.  He and Ron had some confusion on Tuesday and I think this is related - the guy had gone to "meet us" Tuesday, but we weren't there, so he made us wait today. 

I was glad I brought my folding chair.  I asked the cart attendant to bring it to me.  Actually I said "Sweetie, can I have a huge favor?"  Big brown eyes "Could you please bring me that folding chair by my husband?  My feet are killing me!"  He was happy to do it, but Ron didn't understand and thought the chair had been stolen.  My cell phone erupted right as the guy came out with my chair. 

We had a good laugh over the "stolen" chair.  That sorted, I had a pretty short wait before the truck arrived. 

We got the truck loaded.  Now, if I made a habit of tipping, I wouldn't say so, would I?  It might get someone fired.  However, I'd like to think I'd be the person who did that.  I hope everyone who required a lot of help loading, would tip. 

We got to work.  I had a horrendous time unloading 31 cases of very heavy drinks.  I ran out of cart space and had to put it on my folding handcart, which then got stuck in the security door. 

I just had a really special day!  [laugh] 

I ate another protein bar - I had one for breakfast.  I've read it's a good idea to eat protein after "lifting" and God knows I was working my muscles.  I got everything stocked.  The repairman came out to fix the "broken" machine, only to show me the broken pin on the light bulb.  Agh. 

Happily Ron had "done something stupid" that morning so I didn't get The Lecture.

 By now I'm just ready to give up.  However, I persevered and did all my work, helped Ron with his.  Ron was very appreciative of my assistance (mainly putting several heavy cases of bottled drinks into the fridge).  I was just glad to Be Done.

We went outside to wait on our ride, which was over an hour late.  Then she drove past 3 times before figuring out the man in the wheelchair, next to the woman waving, might just be her client.  AH!

We were still nice to her.  She was at the end of a very long day, it turns out, and I could certainly relate.

We went home.  I ate a couple hot dogs and took my meds.  I needed them, boy did I ever.  Not done though.  Ron wanted to go to Walmart.  We got to the Walmart.  I made my deposit.  About half an hour later, the bank was robbed.  Good thing my deposit is in the system, because the cash is likely in some thug's pocket!

I couldn't make this up if I tried.  I did find a "Kiddie Cart" (the cart with a seat on the back for Ron, hooked onto a standard shopping cart, propelled by Heatherpower).

We didn't spend much money.   Cleaning products, a cat toy (Baby Girl loves it, Torbie doesn't hate it), cat treats, salty snacks for Ron (I have my salt tablets now), milk, yogurt, cottage cheese for me, some deli meat, Ron wanted hot deli food, etc. 

We paid up (a nice new cashier, I thanked him in Chinese) and went outside to wait.  As I told Ron later, our driver "Is one of those very rigid guys where things have to be done his way, he can't adapt to other ways of thinking".  He got very angry when I told him I would "Blow out my knee" if I tried to carry the groceries up the stairs of the van (a very steep journey). 

I don't get angry with Ron's limits, I work around them.  Besides, I loaded and unloaded all my stuff through the emergency exit "back door" of the van.  No other driver has a problem with that. 

Anyway [rolleyes] I was pretty happy to see the last of him.  I could never have a relationship with someone like that. 

For all his flaws, Ron is adaptable.  He's had to be. 

Having arrived home, I had the bright idea to compare my earplugs to see which one I liked better, and of course the one got stuck. 

It's just been that kind of day! 

Thursday, January 15, 2015

"You're better than this"

Ron wasn't verbally abusive, just demanding, last night. 

As a result I imagine I was far less shrill than I am on other occasions.  As a result of that, Ron has been far more remorseful and even made a big production out of pouring the vodka down the drain. 

He tried to get me to do it, but I told him "You have to do it".  He did. 

Anyway, everytime he beat himself up, or expressed remorse/disgust for his actions, I reminded him "You're better than this.  This isn't you.  It doesn't have to be you.  This only happens when you drink." 

Ron even asked me why I believe he drinks; I shared my depression theory "But you can't drink while taking antidepressants". 

He didn't like that much.  But I did plant the idea.  "Just go see my doc, talk for a while, he'll decide if you need anything.  You know he's good, look what he did for me!" 

He's thinking. 

I think it could be very good. 

However, as of now, Vodka is the villan.  He just needs to avoid vodka and he'll be fine. 

I don't remind him he had a blackout on light beer, one time.  I lost my temper and smashed all the bottles in the garage.  That was pre-blog. 

Anyway, I keep reminding him "You're better than this" because I really feel that's the message God wants me to convey. 

I just pray I get some sleep tonight. 

Trips through hell

Last night.  Did not go well. 

It started out in a fairly benign manner.  Ron got a little drunk and became my biggest fan.  He's sorry he's crippled.  He didn't know he'd have the accident.  He loves me very much.  I am the most wonderful person in the world. 

You get the idea.  He literally crashed right next to his bed and passed out on the floor.  So far, so good. 

I did do a double take when I found him with his pants off, later, but he was fine.  I went to bed. 

And that leads me to issue #2.  House #8 has apparently gotten a third dog (in violation of the deed restrictions and probably against landlord preference).  It's a puppy.  I heard it yelping yesterday morning.  I heard it yelping last evening, forecast low 38 and rain.  I heard it yelping all day today.  It sounds tortured. 

I also wonder how many dogs they plan to add to their family, and how much the dogs will bark.  I know from the whole Barkappotamous experience, a neglected dog will bark constantly. 

I figure it was a Christmas impulse, and they're tired of it.  It sounds very young and probably isn't toilet trained.  They already have a pampered lap dog and a pit bull they breed for profit.  If I had to guess, they're tired of the puppy, so they shoved it in the yard.   

So, I thought about it, prayed about it.  I decided to make a report to the Homeowner's association.  They are in violation.  They just sent out a memo - 2 dogs per household ONLY (and only was bolded).  They knew this when they got the third dog. 

I also asked them to forward a copy of the violation letter to the landlord, so he knows they have 3 dogs as well.  He's kind of a slumlord.  He moves them in and you never see him until he's doing a cleanup for the next one moving in.  When he was renting it back in 2011, he was charging $1300 a month. I doubt he wants them to have a lot of dogs. 

If I don't see any results in a week of so, I'll file a report with the humane society, do a checkup.  My hope is they'll admit they don't want it and surrender it while it's still small, cute, and adoptable. 

That's about all I can do - third option would be writing the landlord a letter.  I might if I have to.  That's about all the options I have.  I do have a huge leg up as they're renters. 

I need to sleep, after all, and the yelps are very piercing.  I also think it's abusive to leave a baby like that to find for itself in the yard, especially in winter. 

When we adopted Baby Girl we brought her in the house immediately.  She had outside access but we never left her outside.  

Anyway, back to Ron.  I heard a crash as I lay in bed trying to sleep.  I got up and found Ron in the kitchen making himself a drink.  I went back to bed. 

I got up a few hours later, and found my brand new bar of soap floating in the toilet.  I hadn't even used it yet!  I was pretty annoyed, the soap was ruined but the bowl water was nice and soapy.  I hope the bowl enjoys shea butter's moisturizing properties. 

It got better.  Lots of crashing, banging, and noises I really didn't want to identify, which turned out to be vomiting.

Ron had an alcoholic in his life, and tells a story of watching this person vomiting.  His disgust, and vow to never, ever, be that puking drunk.  

He began bellowing my name around 3, not in an angry way.  I got up.  He had moved my chair and pushed it about 15 feet, thrown up twice on the floor, once on himself, thrown pizza slices all over the kitchen, you get the idea. 

Ron wanted to clean up the puke - at 3 AM.  I let him have it.  Told him he was drunk, had woken me up, and was being a [censored].  I told him he had to go to bed. 

He mumbled acquiescence and actually did so. 

I got about 4 hours of sleep.  I was NOT HAPPY when I woke up and saw the mess.  Ron woke up and found himself covered in puke.  I reminded him of the story he'd told me.  I had him put the clothes in the washer and started it, while he took a bath. 

His bed pillows reek and are a total loss.  [sigh]   So far we have been "lucky" as regards the mattress, although if it were my bed I'd want another.  It does illustrate a pressing need for a mattress pad. 

Amusingly, he did line up my shoes under the couch, in order, pairs of shoes going from left to right.  He even tied knots in my sneakers - a double bow. 

The rest of the house was pretty wrecked - front room and Ron's room.  The other rooms (computer, my bedroom, and bathroom) were OK.

We had to run a couple errands this morning, so we didn't have time for Ron to do his cleanup.  We went and did our errands, then came home.  I tried to take a nap but couldn't for the yelping.  [rolleyes]

On the one hand, I feel sorry for the puppy.  On the other I want to yell "Shut up!"

Remember I am pretty sleep deprived.  

Ron did a decent job cleaning - using the better part of a roll of disinfecting wipes.  I didn't do it for anyone but me, but he does need to see some consequences.  You puke all over?  You clean it up. 

I don't help him buy alcohol, either.  I resent it when people assume I am enabling. 

I won't even bring him a beer from the fridge, put it in the fridge, any of that.  It's all on Ron. 

[sigh]  What is it lately?  My days off are "like" trips through hell. 

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Butch up

3 nights in a row, poor sleep, stomach pain. 

No, I don't need to see a doctor.  I just read my labels (all info from

Lithium: Gastrointestinal side effects including nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, anorexia, abdominal pain, and dry mouth have been reported frequently.

I wish I had the anorexia - lack of appetite.  I do have everything else.

Haldol  actually helps with nausea

Depakote Gastrointestinal side effects related to gastritis are common and include nausea, vomiting, and indigestion, especially with the initiation of therapy and with rapid increases in dose.

Last but not least, the Wellbutrin - Very common (10% or more): Dry mouth, nausea, vomiting, constipation
Common (1% to 10%): Diarrhea, dysphagia, dyspepsia, gustatory disturbance, abdominal pain, flatulence, taste perversion, stomatitis

Really, reading all that, I'm surprised I do so well, so much of the time.

Then I remind myself, I'm crazy, my illness will kill both myself and others; and I have to butch up and endure the side effects.

I am happy the ginger/tumeric supplements arrived.  Both are said to be good for the stomach.  

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Turn off

I have had a really tough week. 

Everything just seems so hard.  I know that's the depression.  But it's still all so hard. 

Let me tell you about last night.  I went to bed early.  I awoke about 2 hours later, my stomach on fire. 

[personal gripe, people who refer to anything located in their abdomen as "my stomach".  No, it's your abdomen.  This, however, was truly in my stomach, right under the left rib cage.]

I had burning, sloshing, an overall lava feeling.  It was truly awful.  I couldn't sleep. 

I drank some water.  Great.  Now I had more burning.  I fumbled around looking for my Pepto.  I finally found it, not the big bottle, unfortunately.  I couldn't find an antacid to save my life. 

Over the course of the night, I basically drank the whole Pepto (it was a smaller sized bottle).  I finally got about 4 hours straight sleep, around 5-9 AM.  Then I was up. 

I don't know about other people, but sleep deprivation aggravates any existing mood.  I have been horribly depressed all day. 

It took me hours to get up the energy for a shower.  I keep brooding about things at work.  Stupid things. 

However, I don't want my gripe list printed up and waved around.  It's mostly the depression talking anyway. 

I am not giving anyone rope to hang me.  Every job has annoyances. 

I haven't done my God Time yet but I plan to after taking a nap.  I did watch some episodes of "Supernatural" I hadn't seen before. 

Ron's been drinking "I just want to turn off for a while".  [sigh]  You can't live your life in withdrawal. 

But he is sleeping. 

Monday, January 12, 2015

The rest of my brain

I was just climbing into bed when I heard #6 talking very loudly next door, in that "Hey, kids, let's play" tone of voice.  It wasn't late by most standards, but I had to get up at 3. 

I assume he feels he has to talk very loudly to the children, in order to be heard, or maybe he thinks the loud voice conveys fun and energy - I don't know.  I had some bad thoughts for a while, wishing they would shut up; and be as quiet towards us as we are towards them.  We never, ever, make a racket.

I could hear every word inside my bedroom, with the noisemaker on.  He's loud.  

Anyway, he had a small box of the "snaps" or "poppers" - a small noisemaking toy.  You throw it on the ground, the substances interact, and it makes a very small flash and loud snap noise.  They are a small, paper twist. The kids were exclaiming, shouting, and yelling instructions at each other, in addition to Dad's loud exclamations. 

I decided I wasn't going to get any rest, more likely, I would get my adrenaline up and never sleep.  So I got up and did something in the front of the house.

I waited about 10 minutes, and they finished.

Interestingly enough, these things are only available for sale at fireworks stands - from Christmas through New Years.  Someone must have had some left over from their New Year's celebration and given them to him.  

Anyway, here's my gripe.  They act as though they live with no one around them.  However, they do not live in a bubble.  They don't even live on a tenth of an acre.  They are surrounded by other people who work "weird" hours - some of them work nights, some of them work very early mornings, etc.  But they behave as though everyone "ought" to live on their schedule. They appreciate the peace and quiet we give them, but don't return the favor.  They also do not respect property lines, although everyone respects theirs. 

I am consoled by the fact that the kids are in an 11 hour a day charter school - I don't see much of them these days. 

Anyway, I find all this embarrassing.  I doubt your average person is "this" upset by such a "common" issue.  I don't even like to share it but there's some other poor soul out there with the same problem, feeling like they're the only one in the world... you're not.  It sucks.  But keep a journal, for God's sake don't ACT on it. 

I also find myself understanding my maternal grandmother a lot more than I'd like.  See, I have paranoid schizophrenia on BOTH sides now.  Great, huh? 

Anyway, my maternal grandmother was absolutely ruled by her illness, "paranoid schizophrenia".   She had a terrible, miserable, life, convinced that everyone was out to get her.  Never accepted her diagnosis or took medication.  Here's some more about the illness in general:

I totally "get it" feeling like people are out to get me; getting "overly upset" at "small annoyances" (although I'm honestly not sure which flavor of crazy that falls under, one, or both), agitation, etc.  The first is probably the worst. 

Honestly speaking, the neighbors don't give a flying ()*! about me.  I know that, logically.  I just wish the rest of my brain got it. 

Now that I have completely taken my mental clothes off... the rest of my day. 

I slept badly.  I woke up with a terrible headache around 1:30.  I decided to try to sleep a little longer (got up around 3), and took my Excedrin.  It was pretty awful (the headache, not the remedy).  I got dressed and went to work. 

I had two deliveries.  God abated the headache during them, and putting away the soda.  I actually got some help from the other vendors putting up the soda.  I'm glad I put the "name tags" on the wall, if someone does help it is easy to figure out where to put the drinks. 

I stocked, machines looked good, I feel fine leaving them tomorrow.  I ran out of K-cups but we just fixed the coffee vending machine.  Everything else was fine.  I even had some downtime. 

We got everything done and put away, then came home.  We had a good ride to come home, she was already waiting when we came out. 

I took a pretty long nap, still trying to beat the headache.  Then I had a tantrum when I got up.  Hell with it, I'll eat some Chinese food.  When I get these headaches they don't abate until my period, which is due in 12 days.  12 days of crap suck headaches.  No thanks.  I might as well enjoy some Chow Fun .  Ron was delighted to make the call.  He ordered a lunch special. 

Ron had gone to the liquor store during my nap.  He apologized profusely when I woke up, because he "accidentally had 3 drinks" and I should this and that if he got out of line.  "Ron," I told him "If I intervene, in any way, you beat me up.  You're on your own.  The verbal abuse is bad enough." 

He was pretty stunned when I put it that way, and went off to bed after eating.  He hoped the large amount of Chinese food (spicy pork something) would counteract, or slow, the alcohol.  I hope so, too. 

At any rate, we have tomorrow off.  I am about tapped out on my pay, so I don't want to shop anywhere.  I don't particularly want any special outings until I get the headaches under control. 

Oh, I hate headaches.  But, as I remind myself, when I'm medicated, I'm the only one who suffers.  When I'm not medicated, everyone suffers, me, and all around me.  When I take my pills it's just me, sucking it up. 

And, any day, the side effects are better than the illness.  Even during a migraine. 

Sunday, January 11, 2015

My new plan

Well, it's official. 

I am down 20 pounds. 

I was up above 250 last summer, but I've come down to 236.  However, looking at my Fitday, I'm starting to understand why I had those rude drivers interrogating me about my weight gain.  I did gain 20 pounds last spring. 

That doesn't excuse incredibly rude interrogations, with strangers demanding I tell them how I gained the weight, or remarking, again and again, how terrible they thought I looked - but it does explain the impetus. 

I had gained 20 pounds. 

It's gone now, although no one's saying "Oh, have you lost weight?"  Trust me, when they notice I'll be in for interrogations regarding exactly how I lost, how long it took, what I did, etc.  I just plan to say "calorie counting and working out".  At work I will say I've been working out.  I don't want to scare them away from the vending machines! 

I found it interesting, my weight has been stuck around 220-230 for a couple of years now.  But I've had a hard time sticking with the program due to illness and restrictive eating plans. 

My new plan is essentially calorie counting: eat less than I burn.  I am very active at work. 

My new plan also adds in activity every other day,  weights and cardio.  I want to be "overall" healthy, not "fitness" healthy. 

So, today, after I got up, I put on my new exercise bra.  My larger size (thank you antipsychotics), combined with the front zipper close, combined to give me a *orn star look.  I was glad I didn't have to wear it out in public!  I had quite the show. 

It did perform as advertised and didn't permit any motion.  It would be great to wear during one of my fitness DVD workouts. 

I used the exercise bike - a recumbent Ron bought several years ago.  I checked the weight limit, and I'm fine. 

I started with a moderate workout.  For some reason my computer got stuck on old gospel hymns.  Not so good for a workout.  I got up, adjusted it (Baby Girl was asleep in my computer chair) and had a much better workout. 

Then I did a warmup and some weights, upper body.  My legs are still pretty stiff. 

All done, I ate some breakfast.  I was surprised to find out the hot dog buns had more calories than the cheese dogs.  Huh.  Pays to read your labels! 

I could have had an extra 2 dogs for that. 

Anyway, all the food logging has made me incredibly hungry, so I'm going to make dinner.  I have to go to bed early. 

Saturday, January 10, 2015

63 cases

Highlight of the day: standing outside in the rain, in 37 degree weather (that's F, not C), waving at the paratransit vehicle as he went up and down, up and down the street.

He finally figures it out half an hour later (I'll refer you back to standing outside in 37 degrees in the rain), and immediately presents with an attitude!

I, very politely said "I don't want to talk about it. After all, *I* am the one who had to stand outside in the rain for half an hour, watching you up and down the street as I waved at you"  He started to talk, I interrupted.  "No other driver has this trouble finding us.  I know you saw me waving."  He was quiet.  I know he saw me rubbing my hands, trying to warm them up. 

We have detailed notes in the computer. We have PHONE NUMBERS listed, in the computer. [sigh] But he was clearly playing games and TRYING to get us upset so we didn't let him. I called my aunt and jabbered at her all the way home.

Take that!

I got up early, truck day.  My skin was really dry and tight so I didn't shower.

I did my God Time and had a small breakfast.  Then I decided to weigh myself.  I am down 20 pounds from last summer!  After breakfast!


Even Ron was impressed.  I've only, recently, been actually trying to get healthier, too.

The stretchy band squats about killed me.  My squat muscles are very painful, and parts of my upper back (lats and traps).

I won't do a stretchy band workout the day before Truck Day.   Ugh. 

We got to the warehouse.  We both needed a lot of inventory, it totaled 63 cases.  We barely squished it all in the truck bed. 

I had my back brace, thank God. 

I realized, it's easy to figure out my weight loss, as I pushed the loaded carts into the building.  One, I'm building more muscle.  Two, I am burning more energy. 

I got 95% of it stocked.  I didn't get to do all the pastry, but we will be back very early Monday morning.  I spent some time helping Ron; he was very appreciative. 

I don't mind "extra help", as long as I feel my efforts are valued.  He is getting a lot better about that. 

My only gripe about that; I wish he did it as much at home, as he does at work! 

Finally, after a long day, my highly dramatic, frozen, pickup.  We got home.  I made a hot drink and prepared to go to Walmart. 

I needed to get my meds.  We arrived, I got my medication, and did my personal shopping.  I need a FS-25 florescent starter.  Shockingly, it's the one thing they didn't have.  I'm sure I can get a few at a hardware store. 

Ron wanted some beans, chips, and cat treats. 

I got myself a new sports bra.  I had to take the others back.  They didn't work.  This is purple!  It also has a front zipper; fine for home workouts.  It looks comfy. 

I want to make workouts fun.  I have noticed a definite improvement in my depression when I work out. 

That's enough right there, even if I wasn't losing weight. 

A trip to the hematologist

I slept OK but woke up really tired.  I hit the snooze alarm a few times, much to Biscuit's disgust.  But I'm getting ahead of mys...