Saturday, May 30, 2015

Whole bucket of crazy

Here's the link to my WONDERFUL bed frame.  It costs about $90 for a queen, is easy to assemble - hell, I did it after taking my medication, is fairly light (about 40 pounds), comes free UPS shipping to your door, and super, super, comfy.

I threw my very old, four inch thick foam mattress (circa 2006) on the base and have slept great every night.  I love it, and definitely recommend it.

I also love the storage.  I have 11 inch tall boxes, several of them, under the bed.  I can store clean towels, extra linens, books, etc, very easily.  I just got boxes at Walmart.

However, I think the storms have unleashed a tidal wave of stray, traumatized, dogs.  I believe one was sniffing around next door, probably hoping for a meal.  How do I know?

2+ hours of frenzied barking, well past my bedtime, last night.  I wasn't very happy.  I did, however, have Torbie in my bed, lying next to my head like my cat wife.  She is so sweet and loving.   The "worst" she's ever done is give me a speaking look when the litter box needed work.  Sort of a, "Heather, I'm so disappointed in you". 

Anyway, the cuddles redeemed what was otherwise an awful night.  Happily Ron can't hear the barking unless he's using the bathroom.  He actually went out on the porch and said something to whoever was out in front of the house. 

The day, honestly, wasn't much better.  I made a series of small mistakes: forgot my work keys, forgot to buy Dr Pepper bottles (about 7% of our sales), made a series of what he considered "stupid" mistakes, etc.  A good example is dinner.  We're eating the exact same hamburger.  I'm happy because it has plenty of sauce.  Ron complains his is "dry".  He keeps complaining while he ate.  I kept saying "Do you want me to get more sauce?"  Yes, he said.  So I got the sauce and put it on the burger, because he can't.  He yelled at me for putting "too much sauce" on the sandwich.  I tried not to receive his criticisms, out of the endless tide of haterist negativity. 

Did he say one kind word about the fact I literally busted my butt getting everything else on the list?  How I helped him with all his work, and did mine too?  How I dealt with more than one ugly-tempered customer, while remaining professional? 

Well, maybe not professional.  

One man stood next to my stockroom as I unloaded the carts, haranguing me about my "empty" vending machines, "It's about time you showed up to stock" (I stocked 48 hours ago), etc. 

I finally cut him off.  "Look," I told him.  "I bought enough for a standard week.  I didn't exactly get a memo saying 'We're going to have an epic flood'."

I told his friend I found the man "very rude" and "The next time he has a problem with the way we run our business, he needs to talk to Ron".  

"Oh, you don't understand" the guy says "He has some [mental health] issues"

I scoffed.  "I am a whole bucket of crazy."  I told him, "Bipolar with 'schitzo' on top."  He gaped. 

"You didn't know, did you?  Because I don't run around crapping on people because I'm having a bad day.  Because I take my pills, as directed."  I continued "If he really has a mental health problem, you tell him this from me: take your damned pills."   He choked. 

"OK, got it."  He started to walk away and came back.  "Can I steal that?  'Whole bucket of crazy'?"  Sure, I told him, I don't care. 

The gossip mill is already well aware of my problems. 

Sigh.  I had that, then Ron verbally abusing me, very demanding, shouting for me, yelling if I didn't appear in 3 seconds, etc.  It was very tiresome.  I especially hate it when he treats me like crap in front of the customers.  For one, I think it leads them to think they can do it, too.  "If you treat your wife that way, so can I, whenever I'm in a bad mood."  It's also embarrassing and demeaning. 

This on top of minimal sleep last night.  It was exhausting, and it would be so easy to get bitter.  But I remind myself God will hold Ron to account for his treatment. 

Today I did everything possible to be kind, helpful, understanding (except for the take your pills thing), gentle, and behave in a way that would, I felt, honor God.  I came very close to telling Ron I would walk out of work if he treated me that way.  However, he couldn't find his way to our pickup spot if I did.  That would not be pleasing to God. 

I don't give a damn about making Ron happy - to me, it's all about making God happy.  If I'm making God happy, I'm satisfied.  Ron can take a flying leap.  I resent the narcissism, resent whatever personality disorder tells him I am everything bad in his life because I forgot my keys, etc.  I won't do anything to make Ron happy - but I will to please God.  If that means "sucking it up" now and then, so be it. 

I know God will smack him in the proper timeline.  Ron is so blessed in so many ways, I am utterly devoted to him, completely loyal, he has what many would consider a very good life.  He can make a living, working part time.  That's huge.  He has meaningful work, a good wife, etc... and he just spits on it.  God doesn't like that and will deal with him accordingly. 

I don't have to get bitter.  I have to focus on pleasing God and let Him work His plan. 

We came home, I did my God Time. 

We went to the store, I left Ron at the burger place and got the cat food.  3 bags.  They eat a lot.  I also got some wet food for Biscuit.  He does better eating wet food.  Gravy likes it too, but the girls could care less. 

As I left the pet store, the sky opened up.  I stood outside in hugely humid air, scenting the rain as it poured down around me, warm on my feet in their flip flops, soaking my quick-dry t-shirt.  As I crossed the parking lot, my feet slid around, so I took off my flip flops, watched the ground carefully, and waded through the rain puddles as the rain cascaded.  It was lovely.  The temperature dropped as I crossed the parking lot, probably 20 degrees... it was fascinating.  I finally got to the burger place and sadly donned my flip-flops, still lugging my tote. 

The food I buy comes in plastic bags, so the rain didn't affect the pet products. 

Some of my happiest memories involve summer rain. 

We ate dinner, Ron did not ruin my digestion, although he tried... and we came home.  The bayou was up, we had some rain while we were gone. 

Ron started drinking and went to bed. 

He is "making" me go back to the warehouse tomorrow, to "punish" me for forgetting the soda.  [rolleyes]  I'll go because we do need it, and I can get some other things.  I forgot my sour gummy worms. 

I gave Biscuit a pouch of cat food, which he loved.  Boy, he has a very expressive tail.  He was purring loudly after he ate. 

It's nice to just be loved. 

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