"You can't imagine what it's like"

I had a pretty good night's sleep.  I woke up with a mild headache, instead of my usual "gripper".  I was, of course, depressed. 

I ended up skipping both my shower and my God Time.  Not the best morning, especially when the little yapper next door started barking furiously.  I was already up.  I just wish I could say to the family:  "What's the deal?  My cats have never woken you up." 

It would be great if dogs only disturbed their own household, when barking.  Never happen, just wishing. 

It could be worse.  It is a small yapper, not something large and vicious.  It doesn't bark much.  It likes me. 

So, in this frame of mind, I waited for our ride.  It was a half hour late.  Since the weather was very pleasant this morning, Ron waited outside in the driveway. 

The driver, according to Ron, pulled up and got out of the vehicle yelling at him because he had "blocked the driveway".  Ron always does that so the driver can park in the street and load him without pushing uphill.  He told her that. 

She got all huffy, took his brakes off, and rode him all the way to the corner.  Then she pushed him in the street, all the way back, making a huge production about the "difficulty" of pushing a 150 pound man in a wheelchair, when she could have pulled up 3 feet further when parking and taken him down our driveway. 

She was bound and determined to be a victim, and to "punish" Ron for existing.  She strapped him in the back of the cab, in the wheelchair compartment. 

Many times a driver will let Ron sit in the backseat, and then secure the wheelchair.  Not her.  Not today.   OK.  I get that. 

Now, I have joked with some of our nicer drivers: "If you ever want to punish Ron, strap him down in the back, and ride him down Greens road playing loud rap music."  That's exactly what she proceeded to do. 

She could have taken the Beltway feeder, our destination crossed the Beltway.  It would have been faster.  It would have been far less abusive for an accident victim with a very bad back.  Did she care, of course not! 

In fact, when Ron asked her to turn down the rap (he was sitting between two speakers), she turned it UP.   She made no effort to avoid bumps, ruts, and Houston's infamous potholes, all riddling the street.  She drove very fast, too.  Ron's wheelchair was literally airborne at times. 

Ron asked for her driver number.  He said he would be calling in "A compliment".  Meaning, of course, a complaint. 

We got to the second pickup location.  Suddenly, she turns off the radio, gets out, and makes an agitated phone call to her boss (realizing that Ron will most likely complain, and 3 complaints will get a driver terminated).

Ron later decided "She will fire herself".  Still, it's on the record she upset a client so much he wanted to call in a complaint. 

The driver loads client #2.  I think she was a therapist or at least trained in counseling.  The driver immediately started with "I had such a terrible weekend thinking about my poor dead son."

"When did he die?" the client asked.

"Well, the anniversary was January X.  You can't imagine what it's like to lose a child."

So, he's been dead for over a year.  At least.  Then I have to listen to this long self pitying "Oh, I don't have any friends" (not surprising with that attitude!), "I want a guy, but I don't want to date because they're all after my money."  If she had ANY money she would not be driving for paratransit, 12 hours a day.  It's horrible work.

I have suffered a lot of tragedy.  So has Ron, and we have NEVER, EVER, used it as an excuse (it was apparent she was trying to make us feel sorry for her so he wouldn't complain) to crap on people, or to get out of trouble.

I wake up horribly depressed nearly every day of the year.  And you know what?  No one knows about it.  I, too, had "A Terrible Valentines' day" with my passed-out, crippled, alcoholic husband snoring at 4 PM.  I told you, because y'all sign up for my crazy drama, but anyone has a chance to opt out of reading my posts.  I don't monologue hostages. 

I have severe headaches almost every day of the year.  I am a caregiver for a verbally abusive alcoholic.  I had an abusive, neglectful, childhood.  I suffer from horrendous mental illness.  Guess what?  I don't crap on anyone and use this as an excuse.  My problems are my problems.  You are not to blame for my problems. Very few people in my everyday life even know I am sick. 





We were hostages listening to the "Poor pitiful me" monologue all the way to work, including an account of her failed marriage.

She did "Mess up" though.  JFK is notorious bumpy.  She could have given Ron a tortuous ride, but she forgot and went down Imperial Valley (much smoother) instead.  I had to snicker at that (inside my head) when she realized what she'd done.  She even said "Oh, I meant to take JFK." 

Of course you did.  [rolleyes] 

When she unstrapped Ron, she pushed him away from the building.  Yeah, that's a good idea.  We'll go to work and sit around in the parking lot.  I tried to take the wheelchair from her, thanked her, and told her "I have it" when she refused to surrender the chair.  I then moved it so she had to give it up. 

I don't know what game she was playing today.  I hope to God we never see her again. 

If she is really that troubled, she needs counseling.  No matter what's going on in your personal life, you need to keep it separate from work.  Many of your clients have a harder life than you do.  You can walk, see, hear, and drive.  You are not mentally ill or brain damaged.  Appreciate that, value that, and don't inflict your dramas on the clients.  It's immature and unprofessional.  Had I called in on her, I would have suggested mandatory counseling.  If she needs to "get it out" go do it in a safe place.  All of us have trials, but I don't dump mine on you.

I'm not unsympathetic.  She was clearly unreached and did not believe her son's spirit was "alive" in any sense.  She probably has the "You die, you rot" mentality.  So to her, he's "gone forever".  Not quite.  His spirit is alive, and, assuming he was a believer, he is waiting to see her again.  She wouldn't receive that, though, when Ron tried to explain during the unloading process.  

We got into work, stocked, got our delivery.  Things are still pretty slow.  We got out on time and had a completely lovely driver.  She was light years from our first driver, just delightful.

We came home.  I figured, after this morning, I had better take my medication early.  I ate, did that, and took a nap.

I did have an excellent nap.  Yes, I woke up with yet another headache, but that's pretty standard after pill time (nearly everything I take causes headaches).  Some aspirin took care of that.

Since the cold front arrived, I used my heated mattress pad.  It's positively indulgent.

The cats are all doing well.  I think the kittens have *almost* figured out the cat door.  I just hope they can wait a week, until they're healed up from the neutering.