Saturday, May 16, 2015

Ghetto pants

I am wiped out. 

Truck day.  I got up 4-5 AM, Ron distracted me talking about the Terrible Book he was reading.  I realized, in horror, I had missed the time I had to shower. 

Ron has some "bath wipes".  I used those, but no help for my hair (Amazon does have a quickie hair cleanse shower cap product.  I plan to buy a few and will let you know how they work on my long, thick, greasy hair.)  As it was, I had to make do.  Hm. 

I put on a double layer of deodorant.  White Tea and Lavender Crystal Deodorant (always very effective), topped by a layer of Secret Power Fresh spray.  I did not want to stink.   It worked. 

We went to the warehouse.  I was pretty pissed when I found out they were out of both Coke, and Sprite, 24 count bottles.  Last week it was Diet Coke.  They seem to have ongoing, pointless, supply issues. 

Let me say, if I left my vending machines that badly stocked, I'd be thrown out of the building - and they should!  I was pretty disgusted, even more so when Ron sent a mid-level manager to find me, via a phone call. 

"We don't have any" she told me. 

I waited for the explanation, or the apology. 

"You don't have either the Coke, or the Sprite?"  She nodded, smirking. 

"And that's OK with you?  I have customers.  They expect fully stocked vending machines and you're hurting me here." 

"Well" she got an attitude.  "We have cans.

"I don't need cans.

Needless to say (and not complaining), we are looking for another warehouse.  Why should we give them (more than my take home) every month if they can't even keep the basics in stock? 

Yeah, Fig Newtons.  I can understand that - but you can make damned sure I never run out of my staples! 

That's as bad as last week, when the cashier whined I had too much stuff.  I had about half my usual order.  I tried to explain basic economics - I buy a lot of stuff, you keep your job; I don't, you get laid off.  It just rolled off. 

Happily, our new guy-with-a-truck was waiting with Ron when I checked out.  We were done loading, driving (him of course) and unloading (all me) in less than an hour, and he made $30.  Good deal all around.  He was surprised, I think, that we didn't want him to do more, but we really only need a driver. 

God knows I can use the exercise - which reminds me.  Lately I have been plagued with a bad case of ghetto pants.  My pants are sagging and falling off.  I needed something that actually fit before I start exposing my underwear. 

From what I can recollect of my last measurements, I have apparently lost some "inch" off my butt.  My 2012 capris are falling off, and the stuff I bought a few months ago is even baggier.  After work, we went to Walmart.  I got 2 pair of 20W summer pants.  One fit great, the other is a bit tight.  That's good, though, because a lot of time they phase out the summer stuff when it's still warm, I'm wanting something smaller, and I have nothing but the old baggies to wear. 

So: good news, DID find a pair of cute bermudas I can wear for a while, and I have something smaller when I "lose" out of them. 

I am very, very, active at work, lifting many cases of heavy drinks, running around pushing carts, pushing Ron in the wheelchair, standing the whole time, walking, lifting, you name it.  I don't wonder how I'm losing weight, when I sure haven't changed my diet! 

Back to work, did it all.  I stocked everything, helped Ron (a full time job by itself), rotated the inventory, got the inventory put up (not easy in a tiny stockroom).  I did have a few difficult people.  One refused to understand I have a tiny stockroom and cannot stock everything, everyone, wants.  I reminded him the other vendor has 37 vending machines full of the item he sought. 

"I don't want to walk over there" he whined.  I turned and looked in the vending machine before he could see my expression. 

Another guy came over, chatting, and Ron roared over in the wheelchair "Is there a problem!?"  He is pretty protective at times. 

"You need to listen" I told him later "To tone of voice.  You know what I sound like, upset.  If you hear that come on over, ASAP."   He nodded.  "I just don't want people bothering you!" 

I thought it was sweet.  He plied me with Diet Dr Peppers, my favorite.  We finally got it all done, praise God.  We staggered out, exhausted.  Ron whined about the heat.  I put him under the oak tree and sat on his walker.  I need to start bringing my folding chair on Truck Day. 

I ate a bunch of (nutritional crap, but very tasty) junk food today, even when I took my pills.  The only thing I can claim for "nutrition" being the protein gel - 20 grams.  It was good.  I put more on my list for Walmart, and got some bars as well. 

Our driver got a little confused finding us but we got home OK.  We had a turnaround trip to Walmart because my medication had come in.  I like to get it as fast as possible - I wasn't out but I don't even want to get near that.  I remember they were having problems with generic Lithium for a while, and Haldol a few years later. 

It's really alarming, as a person with mental illness, completely dependent on drugs to keep my sanity, to hear "Oh, sorry, it isn't in yet".  I have nightmares I can't get my medication. 

I'm only as good as my next dose (that would be a good title) and I know it.  Anyway, I found a kiddie cart (nicely unexpected, considering it was a late Saturday afternoon) and took him around.  People seem to find us cute when I have him in the cart.  I threw 2 pair of 20W's in my cart, and am happy with them both, for different reasons. 

Ron wanted more apples (I have to say his leg ulcer is almost healed, and I attribute a lot of that to his increased fruit intake) and some bananas.  I selected some good ones.  He loved that.  He loves eating them, too. 

He does say "Don't get the ones in the plastic bag already.  The loose in the bin ones are better."  When I pick them!  I avoid the unripes, bruises, etc.  I like to nurture. 

Speaking of nurturing, my cat Torbie has become a fan whore.  She lays in front of it constantly, rejecting her spot in my bed at night.  I miss her, but she does show up sometimes. 

Back to Walmart, I got some soda for me, the pants, "Mr Plumber", empty spice jars, and some deodorant powder for the litter box (yes, I clean it daily), protein bars and gel, and some Dr Pepper.  I bought a small bag of Twix Bites.  They were very good. 

Halfway through the bag, I read the label.  It had the standard "You're going to die if you have a peanut allergy".  They have this legal crap "A peanut may have come within 5 miles of the plant during our manufacturing process.  IF YOU HAVE A PEANUT ALLERGY AVOID THIS PRODUCT!" and I've already eaten some. 

If I'm depressed, I go ahead and finish it.  [snort]  I understand some people have an extreme allergy and need the warning.  My only experience, I get severe tingling and itching when I handle peanut crackers, stocking, even with gloves.  I toss the gloves and wash my hands up to the elbows when I'm finished, the minute I finish. 

A couple peanuts sitting in my hand for about 30 seconds resulted in a severe flare of hives.  I wanted to claw-flay the skin off my arm!  Horrid!  Thank God Ron carries Benadryl. 

I don't think, for obvious reasons, I should ever eat any kind of peanut product.  However, I think I'd be OK if you ran some chocolate covered peanuts on the line the week before you ran the chocolate covered raisins.  But maybe I'm wrong.  [shrug]  If I see a warning on the label (and I need to habituate reading the label before purchase), I won't buy or eat it... but I'm feeling very confined. 

When peanuts were "just" a migraine trigger I had a lot more liberty.  But I sure don't want a severe hive flare,  or a trip to ICU.   Ugh. 

At least my "manifestation" was something easily handled with a couple of benadryl, and an 88 cent tube of hydrocortisone cream. 

Ha!  I just realized this will help with the weight loss. 

A driver pulled up, rolled down the window, not for us.  A couple minutes later our driver came. 

He got out of his vehicle, chatting with the other driver (who was a woman, and "cute").  "She won't take us!" I whined  "She said we had an odor!"   They both laughed pretty hard because some of the clients smell terrible. 

We had a good ride home, I got everything in the house.  My hair smelled, greasy, sweaty, and disgusting.  I took a bath with a couple drops of dish soap even before I put the stuff away.  Then I took a shower. 

Now I feel human. 

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