Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Practice

The depression was a little better today.  "I can't wait to get manic" I told Ron.  He nodded. 

A properly medicated, balanced, mania, of course. 

I actually had some fun today.  We went to Walmart very first thing, when it was nice and quiet.  We got some soda for work (our soda company rep gave us "permission"), and Ron had budgeted some personal shopping time. 

I got some new undies.  :p  I told Ron, it's funny, sturdy elastic is more important than colors.  After that, I want 100% cotton, and then cute colors and patterns. 

I'd rather wear a revolting print with a good elastic, if needed. 

I found some good ones in purple assortment, so that makes me happy. 

We had fun shopping.  I had him in the kiddie cart:
You can see the walker in the front right corner, my reusable bags in the cart.  My love language is quality time.  Link

In fact, I find it endlessly frustrating when I'm trying to spend time with Ron and he's on the phone "Be quiet, I'm on the phone" attitude.  Drives me nuts!  PUT IT AWAY!  Talk to your wife!  Give her some attention so another man won't! 

I require care and feeding, just like the cats.  I just need different things. 

Ron has stopped playing "Mr Problem Solver" on the dating chatlines.  He used to set up an account, tell me your problems, and play counselor.  In the meantime I would be languishing, or talking to someone else online, waiting for him. 

If he is sober, I don't have a problem getting out of my computer chair and giving him attention.  I will usually play songs for him on YouTube, help him to research, and buy things if needed. 

Quality time is greater than pastime - even blogging.  :p  But he's snoring.  He had a little much today.  It's never a good day when I find his cell phone in the middle of the kitchen floor, apparently dead.  I'll let him figure that out. 

Ron did admit recently he was calling one line.  I was Not Happy. 

"I just can't believe" he says "That women want sex as much as men." 

I've been telling you that for over 23 years.  You can't understand? 

"I just can't believe it."  I have seriously suggested he get counseling, if this is such a big deal to him.  Playing around with supertramps out to wreck marriages is a bad way to validate women's sexuality. 

Besides, he's got me. 

"Why do they hide it?' 

Well, I tell him, they did in your generation but not mine.  And don't forget the woman has to have babies. 

So he got a bunch of books on childbirth and now he's totally traumatized.  I just hope he can sort this out without wrecking our marriage. 

I really thought he was over all that. 

He recently got a really sleazy book trilogy about a "somewhat reformed" prostitute.  He kept trying to tell me about it.  I kept telling him I wasn't interested. 

Now, get a biography of a born again prostitute who starts a ministry to same, I would read it in a couple of hours!  It's all in the context! 

But I am not interested in porno books with explicit descriptions of sex.  To my mind, a good writer can write a fantastic story without one sex scene. 

Look at "The Scarlet Letter".  They only reference the sex obliquely.  You know she's an adulteress because she had a child and her husband was missing during the time of conception.  I can think of many other books. 

Post Apocalypse fiction generally doesn't have a lot of explicit sex, maybe a guy comes up on a rapist and kills him, then moves on.  That sort of thing. 

Anyway, after Walmart we went to work. 

The Yoruba Nigerian cab drivers love that we can speak a little dialect.  They always ask us where we learned "Other drivers!".

Some want to start their own intensive schooling, and try to teach us as many phrases as possible before the destination.  I never would have figured I would learn Yoruba.  Never. 

Spanish, yeah.

So we got to work and took the sodas in.  Our machines didn't have a lot of business; they had just had a "meet the new manager" party with free snacks.

Good, less work.  I am depressed.

When I'm manic I'll stock everything.

I stocked and helped Ron, but we didn't need much.

We decided to go to paratransit headquarters tomorrow and get Ron's yearly pass.  That's going to be a very long day. 

We left work and came home.  We had another pickup. 

It was a Walmart pickup.  A very frail old lady and a caregiver.  The caregiver was bipolar, manic, and combative. 

She was verbally abusive. 
Threatened physical abuse
Refused to wear the seatbelt until she was told she would be removed from the vehicle. 
More verbal abuse.
The old lady was having a hard time getting in the back seat. 

If it had been just her, I would have been happy to offer her my (front passenger) seat.  However, I was scared of the woman in the back.  I didn't want to sit next to her if I could avoid it.  The old lady managed to get in by herself. 

The caregiver had a filthy, abusive, mouth.  "No one can tell me anything." she bragged (typical manic thinking).  She was everything I strive not to be. 

Ron poured on the charm and kept her calm.   Poor man's had some practice!  

We got home and I fled as fast as I could.  I did tell the driver we would call in a compliment because I didn't want that harridan trying to get him fired. 

The minute I got in the house, I took my medication. 

Ron called in the compliment "No, the driver was GREAT!  Please get this right!"  

I'm sorry I whined.  I am very sorry I whined about my side effects, Lord.  Please don't ever let me be that woman.  

I can only prevent that by taking my medication. 

I actually posted on Facebook:  "To my bipolar friends.  You know how you think you're fine off your meds?  You're not!" 

[shudder]  Very traumatic. 

This is me, off my meds.  Such a horrible thought.  [shudder] 

I took a nap.  Torbie abandoned me but my faithful Biscuit came to visit.  We had a good nap.  Torbie showed up later, very annoyed. 

Well, I'm available on a first come first served basis.  If I'm not good enough for you at 1 PM I'm not available at 2.

What a day.  




1 comment:

Anonymous said...

ron looks comfy

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