I wait

Ron fixed the gate, but gave God most of the credit.  I helped in a minor fashion. 

We awoke to torrential rain this morning, as promised.  However, it's nice and dry now.  Should be good weather for trick-or-treat. 

I did a shower, God Time, didn't get a nap.  Kids wanted to play outside, and I doubt I could have slept anyway. 

Anxiety was really bad this morning.  I don't know if it was a "brain fart" or a reaction to the iced tea I had with breakfast.  I just know it was awful and I hated it. 

I can see why people drink and use drugs.  I really can.  Will I?  No. 

I will say I would have given up the battle long ago, without my faith.  Speaking of, I did up a little more candy for the kids tonight.  I have about 120 bags.  2 handfuls assorted candy, full sized candy bar, scripture booklet.  Even if I only get one kid a year that's a lot of kids. 

For now, I wait. 

Imperfect men

I went to bed around 8 last night.  I was sleeping pretty well until #6 made a lot of noise with their trash can, around 9:30. 

I got up, peed, drank some water, and unplugged my cell phone, which had finally finished charging.  I wasn't really upset, it was probably yet another diaper. 

Ugh. 

Don't get me wrong, I worked for several years in our church nursery, 9 months to 3 years.  If only they knew I was crazy!  As it was, I was seen as "good with the children" and a positive volunteer. 

I can't go into how I was drafted to do this, suffice to say I started to help a third party, then they liked me enough they asked to "keep" me, which my stepmother allowed.  The church had pretty progressive teachings, so probably a good thing I was kept away from the sermons. 

I did miss sitting next to Chris -my big high school crush.  Oh, I adored him.  He probably appreciated the break.  Wherever he is now, I wish him lots of love and happiness, he was very kind to me. 

He had a little bit of a paunch, and a thinning hairline, even back then.  He had pretty bad knees, too, and lovely warm brown eyes.  Ron wonders why I married him, sometimes, but I guess I have always been attracted to imperfect men. 

Handsome men put my back up.  I don't trust them.  Probably because my abusers were all physically attractive. 

I got a pretty good night's sleep, and woke up on my own before the alarm.  I'm still tired, always tired. 

And, today, incredibly stiff.  Truck Day and a Bible Handout were not the best combination.  My calves, hamstrings (those are probably work) and right bicep are pretty sore, even with OTC analgesics. 

Worth it.  I have a business to run and people to Reach, and that's a lot better excuse than "I over did my workout". 

I did my God Time, and planned to take my shower, but I got distracted watching Supernatural and missed my window on that.  We went to the mall.  Ron wanted teriyaki chicken.  He's addicted to it.  He likes to get some every month or so.  It's "just" chicken and rice but it's very important to him. 

So, I went.  The trips weren't bad.  I ate another store's chicken, pretty average. 

I can't talk about the next hour after we got home.  I wish it had been what you're thinking. 

Not even a hint.  

I took a nap, got about an hour before I woke up.  I realized I wasn't getting back to sleep.  When I went back in the bedroom later, I realized that was a good thing, the neighbors were playing with the baby in the backyard. 

Their gray car is gone.  I guess it finally died.  It was making horrible noises as she drove it.  Now it's just the 13-passenger van and his work truck.  We'll see if they get her a new one, or she's just in the passenger van now.  She has favored gray/silver colored cars and the van isn't, so I'm guessing the vehicle's being repaired or replaced.  Not my business anyway. 

They could always paint the van. 

I've had a pretty bad headache today.  MY aunt would say it's due to the weather front moving through.  Probably. 

"Never end a sentence with a preposition".  Funny how my schooling pops up, decades later. 

Ron's outside working on the gate.  He can work in the dark.  :p  Doesn't faze him one bit.  It keeps him occupied. 

We both wonder what his test results will show.  I am guessing some form of irritable bowel disease.  We'll just figure out his triggers and avoid them, maybe take medication. 

Not a big deal. 

Oops.  It looks like Ron is having difficulties with the gate tonight.  Well, either he'll get it, or he won't. 

"I got people" handout

"Gimme Dat" https://youtu.be/SKJbDl8hDho is basically my theme song.  More on that in a minute. 

Today I brought my loaded up handcart to Sam's Club, and then to work.  I got to watch my cheap laminated sign flap around in the back of the truck, worried it would fly off onto someone's windshield.  I'm glad I didn't bring my "nice" one!  It got a little chewed. 

I took the cart into my work area and left it while I did my job, or, for the believers, "Made tents".  Paul, the missionary, made tents for a living and preached the gospel on the side, and boy did he.  I had to make my tents before I could be the missionary. 

After work I sent Ron home on the bus.  I'd planned to take the #6 bus to the transit center, then transfer to the #99.  I didn't realize I'd have to drag a heavily laden handcart across half a mile, literally, of grass.    Not only was it hard to move, it wobbled back and forth like a bucking bronco.  I got a scratch on my leg.
 
I got to the bus stop without losing a wheel, praise God.  The bus was late, of course.  Finally got to the transit center.

The 399 pulled up.  I asked if she went to Ella and Rankin.  Yes, she replied, and leaving in 5 minutes.  It was a very good ride.
 
I stood at the intersection, faced with 4 possible medians.  West was blocked by a lot of safety cones.  North looked pretty slow.  I didn't like East.  I went with South. 

South has nice pine trees on the median, but also several large and angry fire ant mounds.  I am certain God was busy protecting me, I didn't get a single bite.

Within 5 minutes I'd handed out three.  I had one man shouting "Hey!  Hey!" just like Ambassador in my theme song.  Even more appropriate, he yelled "Gimme that Bible!", just like Ambassador.  Very funny, very poignant.  He wanted 2 as it turns out. 

I had a lot of singles.  One gangbanger went out of his way to pass and get a couple of Bibles.  I had several women wanting Bibles for their kids.  The men generally just wanted one. 
I continued my policy, if one person wants a Bible, everyone in the car gets one.  They might not have asked, but they sure grinned!

I almost got run over by one woman, and apologized to her.  "Let me make it up to you" I said, as I offered her 2 Bibles (she had a companion).  "OH-kay..." she said timidly, accepting them.  I grinned. 
 
One young couple pointed at me, laughing hysterically.  "I hope we can all laugh about this in Heaven one day" I told the back of the car, quietly, as they left. 

I had two women who wanted Bibles, "For the kids at Church".  I didn't have a problem with that although you do have to wonder why the church can't/won't buy Bibles for the kids.  Not my job.  I distribute, they wanted, they got. 

One woman took a look at me, and asked how many she could have.  I asked how many she needed.  "I got people" she said tiredly "In my life".  I gave her probably 10.  She was very grateful. 
See, I've learned, not to be stingy.  If I am generous with the bigger requests, I still always have enough for everyone.  If I'm stingy, I end up with leftovers. 

I.  Hate.  Leftovers.
 
Pretty soon I was down to my last 4.  I began rolling up the sign. 

"Wait!" someone yelled.  I looked behind me to a disappointed looking man.  "Are you out?" 

"Not yet!" I told him cheerfully, peeking in the car.  "You need 2?  Here you go." 

I hurried off the median after that.  I had to go through more grass to get to the donut shop, but the crate was empty, so I could carry it. 

A carload of young man barked at me as they drove past.  That happens a lot, on Handouts.  I was in my regular clothes, my vest and hat put away, the sign rolled up and rubberbanded. 

I got to the donut shop, waited on my ride, and gave 4 more Spanish to the employees. 

Then, a good dinner and another ride, home, this time. 

I am definitely going back to Ella and Rankin. 

Please pray for the recipients. 

All Important Pride

Today I was reading part of an old diary that runs from 1991-1997. 

It was profoundly depressing.  Ron got mad at me.  He was mean.  He threatened to throw me out.  I had a good day out by myself.  Came home.  Ron was mean. 

It's like - wow.  He was a creep.  It didn't get better.  About the only time he didn't threaten to throw me out was the time when I paid all the bills.  He still did a lot of pouting and dramas.  He has a very bad habit of pouting, sulking, and "punishing" when things don't go his way. 

Today was a good example.  Our first ride was a contracted cab.  He arrived an hour late.  After we got a couple blocks from the house, I realized I forgot my badge. 

If it were up to me, I wouldn't have even mentioned it but I knew I'd have more hell to pay if I didn't correct it now.  As it was, both Ron and the driver had hissy fits when I POLITELY asked to go back. 

They kept blowing out angry little sighs and the driver drove like a maniac.  Speeding.  Cutting off every other vehicle.  He was trying to play chicken with a 2 ton pickup.  He's in a minivan.  Stupid.  I seldom have the need to ask God for physical protection, but I sure did this morning. 

"It's your fault" the driver said, catching a glimpse of my face in the rearview.  "If we didn't have to go back....and I have a scheduled pickup at 7:30." 

Why didn't you just come on time? I thought.  No one forced you take this trip.

I hate it when manipulators screw up and try to make it my fault.  Ron does it a lot. 

Then he had a tantrum because we didn't have a ticket.  No, we have a yearly pass.  That's what it says: yearly pass.  I had to tell him no one else has had a problem before he would accept it. 

Ron, by the way, was still busy being terribly upset by my failure.  I often remind him.  I have two choices.  Take the medication, or don't.  I don't have any other options.  And yes, it makes me forgetful. 

I tried to ask him if I ever act like that when he screws up, and if he'd been honest he would have said no.  He would have said I'm "Always very kind".  He has, in fact.  I've even gone out of my way to be very nice to him after a "screwup" and say "Please remember this the next time I make a mistake."  It doesn't work. 

He still has that stupid thing in his head that says I have to be punished.  Ugh. 

I did my shopping.  I was feeling kind of foggy so I asked God to help me remember what I needed.  And I kept finding things I needed, but had forgotten, out of place everywhere I looked!  I thought that was very cool. 

They got rid of Cart Attendants at that hour, so I have to load the truck myself.  Not Fun.  I did it, though. 

Anxiety has been a little better, and I hate to admit, does seem to be connected to my intake of artificial sweetener. 

We got to work, I unloaded.  I thought it was funny, one of the other vendor's employees said that my offerings were better than the ones he can get for free, from his boss.  I took that as a large compliment. 

Later on I did eat my beef and noodles, but it didn't agree.  It's not the meal's fault. 

I did everything.  You name it, I did it. 

I also ended up talking to management, who've decided to move our fridge/freezer unit again.  This time it will be in a better location. 

I said that was fine by us, but to contact Ron.  Ron is sensitive to issues like that if he feels I am going around him and "acting like the manager". 

Ah, to spare the all important pride. 

Now, my experiences with medication and mental illness have been pretty humiliating.  I don't like walking around stupid.  I don't like making mistakes.  I don't like having weird thoughts running wild in my head like a pack of little kids. 

But. 

That's how God made me.  To, I'm sure, help keep me humble. 

Do I think I am humble?  Not yet, hopefully better than yesterday. 

I'm plotting a Bible Handout.  Ron is sulking because he wanted to drag me out after a long day at work. 

When I got home today, I took a nap for an hour and a half, and I needed every minute.  Ron is still asleep. 

When I finished, I did my God Time.  I didn't take a shower this morning, not up for it.  Besides, I get all sweaty unloading the truck anyway. 

Now I just need to work on some laundry, check the mail, bag up some candy, and get the rest of the Bibles going for the handout. 

Pretty stupid

"I hate to tell you I'm queasy" I whined "Because I'm always queasy."  Sad but true.  Ron and I were at lunch. 

I slept in pretty late for me, about 7 AM, and did my shower and God Time.  Even though it's supposed to rain on Saturday, I have a feeling it's going to be a blowout. 

I viewed what's left of the to-be-bagged candy, and resolved to buy some more candy.  Just in case.  I can always hand out leftovers to other people. 

We went to the bank.  They got us there late and arrived early, leaving us scrambling to finish our business in time. 

We did.  Then we went to Arby's, where I whined at Ron.  I told him I am very sick of depression and anxiety, can't wait to get manic, even though I don't like the whole "compulsion to activity" thing inherent in a mania, or mine at least.  I told him I am nearly always wracked with anxiety, sick of it, and can't wait until God takes this load from me. 

If this is stable I would hate to see unstable. 

He listened, he's a good listener.  He didn't even drink last night - we ordered pizza and ate that, talking. 

I went to bed a little after 8, last night. 

Anyway, back to lunch, I wasn't very hungry so I left my food unattended and did a little shopping at the dollar store.  I found some wrapped candy, cinnamon discs, fruit rounds, and "Graffiti Taffy".  I also bought a few food and snack items, too. 

I came back, ate my food (the sandwich, at least), took my meds, and we went home.  The driver was obsessed with every food place around.  His figure indicated some blood sugar issues. 

A guy like him, I bet, would do great on low carb. 

Ron and I are debating if it might help to modify my diet.  I'm torn.  It's aggravation if I do.  It might not work.  But what if it does? 

If I do, I will cut out the artificial sweeteners first. 

I got home and took my nap.  I was pretty tired because I didn't get a nap yesterday - #6 and his yard guys.  Half an hour later I hear yard guys out front.  Two days in a row?  What are they doing?

I was really pissed when I heard them in my backyard.  I opened the backdoor and yelled at them (fully dressed) before I realized they were OUR yard guys.  Oh.  I felt pretty stupid. 

They were out of there in 20 minutes - #6's yard guys could learn a lesson!  I paid my guys and gave them some candy, too. 

It was, of course, impossible to go back to sleep.  So now I'm awake waiting to go to Walmart.  I did get a half an hour of sleep, which is better than nothing. 

I just wish I wasn't always tired. 

Safety is our goal!

I went to bed as early as possible, but took a while to fall asleep.  Then I woke up ready to go at midnight. 

Like a vampire. 

I forced myself to go back to bed.  While I may wake up, early, on occasion, it's been my experience the initial energy surge is followed by a brutal crash. 

I woke up again when my alarm went off, around 2.  However, I was tucked in, nice and warm, with 3 cats in the bed.  I hit the snooze, more than once. 

I finally got up around quarter to 3.  I took my shower and did my God Time later.

I drank 2 Diet Dr Peppers, ate an energy bar, and took my meds, but they didn't agree.  I was pretty horribly nauseous.  I don't know what it is, when I'm queasy, everyone wants to talk about steak.  Ugh. 

I can't go around saying "I'm queasy" every time I am, because it would be a real downer for Ron and rather self-pitying, in my book. 

Anyway, my Pepto tablets did the job.  Which is why I bought them, and have chosen to keep them at work. 

The morning was fairly uneventful. 

• Dr Pepper came early.   The driver used to be a Metrolift driver and remembered us fondly. 
• I almost got pasted by a semi truck.  It drove very recklessly around the edge of the loading dock and nearly squashed me.  It had a big sign on the back: "SAFETY IS OUR GOAL"
• I will be wearing my reflective safety vest, next time. 
• I put everything away by myself, which I think is my job. 

I stocked snacks, wiping out most of my inventory.  They really like what I'm doing.  I paid a couple of refunds and apologized.  Ron ran into not one, but two, women's butts.  They had bent over and didn't see him approaching. 

Oh-kay.  Turn your head and look.  You can see.  He can't. 

I got sandwiches.  The poor guy's ceiling caved in due to the heavy rains.  And his toddler is sick.  That has got to suck. 

We saw the repairman for the fridge, and sent him off to the other vendors afterward.  He was very happy to get the referral. 

We saw the other repairman.  Apparently they have to send out a truck to get us a label.  Hm.  I have the label installed in the machine though. 

It was a long day.  One of those "Oh, it's so long and we did it all, what are we going to do for the next couple hours?" - and we end up running out the door at the very last second. 

We went home. 

Oh, I wanted a nap, so badly. 

That didn't work out so well. 

I ate some yogurt and took my meds.  I laid down and slept for about an hour, before:

#6 got his yard guys out.  They did the whole landscape routine in his yard, and raked my front yard.  I was going to have Mr. (Yard Guy) out to do that - I find it really hard not to be offended at the presumption.  I AM able to care for my own yard, thank you.  For 95% of the year, my yard's looked WAY better than his. 

Anyway, they made a lot of racket, yelling, power tools, no way I could sleep.  No way.  I was so tired I nearly wept. 

I even tried to go back to bed when it appeared they had left, but they came back.  I did my God Time. 

They finally left, but of course I couldn't sleep.  Someone decided it was a good time to run a circular saw!  I got up around 3:30 and got online, helped Ron with various things, dumped half a gallon of iced tea on the floor, checked the mail, etc.  I'm also working on laundry. 

I sort of have tomorrow off, and my mood has been less anxious.  I guess that's a good benefit to the day. 

Weary

I've had a horrible time this weekend, anxious, agitated, depression.  Nothing that'd make me call my doctor, just thoughts running wild like small animals in my head.  Round it up, stomp it, just get rid of the damned things, already.

Torbie seems to sense some disquiet, she's been spending more time with me.  She wants to be my consolation. 

I read my Bible: "I would have you without care"  Yeah, I'd have me without it, too. 

We don't always get what we want, do we? 

I do my best to quash it.  It's wearying. 

I hope to God someone gets something out of the blog, something that encourages them to go on, to realize that others battle, too.  I'd hate to think I couldn't help encourage one soul. 

I tell myself my thoughts seem darker than they are.  Maybe they are, maybe they aren't.  I will continue. 

Ron's been OK.  We both got as much sleep as possible during "the big storm".  That's about the only time you're guaranteed the neighbors won't make any noise, and even then they still sent them out for about half an hour, earlier. 

I did up most of my Halloween candy, somewhere around 120 bags, total.  I still have some candy bars so I may use them with some additionally purchased candy, or I may just call it done. If I knew it would rain, I'd finish.  But it may not and we tend to get very large groups of children, about 20 at a time, and how awful to run out halfway! 

My eating's been pretty good.  I've mainly been working on my yogurt.  Probiotics, protein, healthy fat. 

Oh, I'm weary. 

I don't live in a vacuum.

Anxious depression is hell.  Just H E L L.  I wouldn't wish it on anyone, even a child torturing rapist. 

I get very weary.  Then Ron has to much to drink and blubbers how much he loves me; it reminds me I don't live in a vacuum.  Even if I had a 100% certain method to "end it"; which I don't - and believe you me, God will absolutely send you back if it's not your time - I wouldn't because it would be cruelty to my survivors. 

Dark thoughts for depression; am I suicidal?  No, just reminding myself why I never could be, even if things were That Bad (they aren't). 

I slept OK except for the mosquito feasting on me.  I woke up tired, I'm always tired unless I'm manic. 

Shower, did God Time later.  We went to work. 

The machines were pretty wiped out.  I was very busy stocking.  The bottle vendor was completely empty.  That was an easy list: everything.  So I put everything on the cart, rolled it out to the fridge (in a very inconvenient new location), unloaded the fridge, offloaded the warm drinks, replaced the cold drinks, loaded cold drinks onto "buggy" (still can't get used to that Texanism), roll very hard to push buggy over by bug-eyed Ron gaping at empty machine. 

(He feels the slots)

We stocked it, but he did most of the work.  Anyway, got it all done just in time.  Our ride was waiting on us. 

Even better.  We went home.  I ate whole fat greek yogurt (a sure fire lithium companion) and took my meds without difficulty.  I took a nap. 

I woke up when I started having a nightmare about chicken and soy.  It was rather dark.  Depressed, anxious, and awake is marginally better than depressed, anxious, and nightmares. 

It was dry this morning, phased into a low drizzle, now an intermittently moderate drizzle.  It hasn't gotten heavy yet. 

Yet. 

I did up more candy; up to about 70 bags (half done).  I'll be glad when I finish. 

I just hope it doesn't rain on Halloween. 

Cast Iron

I didn't sleep well last night; worried. 

I dragged myself out of bed, shower, God Time, careful not to use all the hot water.  Ron took a bath and got dressed. 

My aunt came and drove us to the center.  We ended up waiting 2.5 hours before Ron went back.  It was freezing cold. 

After Ron went to the back, he waited another hour before they took him to surgery. 

It's OK, I understand.  It was certainly an assembly line (but, gotta pay the bills), but everyone was kind. 

I found it a bit disturbing filling out paperwork on job related insurance.  Since we are two, we don't fall under the regulation. 

But that isn't their business, in my opinion.  I don't blame the medical people, I blame regulation. 

Finally, got it all done.  Finally, Ron went off to surgery. 

I took my bill validator cleaner and gave the vending machine a good workout.  Yes, I'm a geek.  It was filthy. 

We came back, it wasn't too long before they called me back.  Ron was fine.  He is nearly always charming in a medical environment.  He was hungry.  He had to pee.  I took him to the bathroom. 

I waited outside the door, praying I wouldn't hear a thump. 

I didn't. 

Ron came out, all smiles, and we waited for the verdict. 

• Not inflammatory bowel disease of any flavor.
• Not cancer.
• Getting better
• Waiting on pathology

Good news.  I gave Doc his Beenie-weenie and a bottle of cheap strawberry wine (my attempt at a "pairing").  He laughed and accepted it graciously. 

We left. 

I drank about 9 bottles of soda.   That's about standard in a high-stress environment. 

We went to lunch.  Ron was hungry.  We found a Chili's.  Ron and I had chicken fried steak.  Yeah, I know, but Ron has a cast iron stomach.  Ron had surgery, I'm queasy. 

Of course Ron is not taking lithium, either.  Let me tell you, lithium is not a drug for wimps, for weak self pitiers.  It'll knock you flat if you don't manage it.   It's an ass-kicking drug for an ass-kicking illness. 

Anyway, I should have brought my meds, but I didn't think it would take that long.  I ended up pretty depressed on the way home.  Sad, considering it was good news. 

"A wasted day" Ron said.  It was, in some regards.  In others it was good news, and that's always encouraging. 

We got stuck in bad traffic on the way home.  I felt horrible for my aunt.  She is, as I told Ron, the perfect example of how a Christian woman should act.  She raised 4 great kids who are wonderful men and fathers (most of them). 

We talked a little about her kids.  I told her they turned out great thanks to her mothering.  She made a modest disclaimer. 

But I look at most of the people I see today, and then at my cousins, and know she had an awful lot to do with how they turned out. 

She is very generous and giving with the children, too... watching the grandbabies even if someone is snotty or running a fever.  We're all lucky to have her. 

By the time we got home, it was too late for a nap, but I did lay down for about 20 minutes after I took my meds.  Ron's asleep, or was, until #2 started playing with his lawnmowers again. 

Ron's generally a cast iron sleeper, too. 

Pretty worn out

Yes, Ron got really drunk and had a blackout.  I am simply amazed he got himself to bed. 

Biscuit threw up, twice, after I gave him his num-num (canned food) this morning.  Poor baby.  Praise God he did so on the tile. 

Ron woke up. 

"I remember something about the cat door" Ron moaned.  "What did I do?"  I told him, plainly, without any drama. 

I assumed, once I told Ron about his activities, he would understand he needed to change, but when he came out of the house he hadn't.  He was not presentable by any standard. 

We had to go to Sam's.  My consolation, they just got a bunch of new hires.  No one knew us. 

No cart attendant either.  I was so glad I wear a modest men's t-shirt, as I found myself standing in the truck bed, bending over, and accepting cases from Truck Guy.  At least I wasn't showing my bra. 

We got it loaded, went back home.  I took my morning pills and a salt tablet.  Ron changed and used the bathroom.  We went to work. 

My machines had been ravaged.  Pillaged.  Denuded.  Decimated.  Pick your adjective; I had a lot of work.  I got about 90% of it (sorry, didn't get the pastry), in addition to helping Ron. 

I recently set up the canned Coke where he can access it.  That makes life a lot easier for me, and I believe he also made a concerted effort to "save" me for important stuff.   I need to thank him for that. 

I made change for various customers, and sold a cinnamon bun to a woman bursting with child.  I worried her water would break right there. 

I'm really glad they seem to enjoy my selections.  Lately I feel anything is a best seller, as long as I stock it.  That's not true, God is blessing us, and I thank Him for it. 

Anxiety was still crappy but not as bad.  I still hate it.  Depression was kept at bay by business. 

At some point today, I was also gifted with a new sign:

I am sworn to secrecy, I'll respect that. 

It's a hard sign, it will be interesting to use this as opposed to the standard, "roll 'em up when I'm done" laminated posterboard (which doesn't have a long life).  It also gets me thinking I need to finish up my candy, etc. 

I took a short nap when I got home; but not very satisfying.  Biscuit laid on my legs, making it impossible to move.  #6 made some noise unloading groceries.  It's garbage day. 

I put away the trash can, got Ron started on the laxative, and if I wanted to "punish" him for the blackout, the laxative does the job.  I finished my God Time. 

I'm pretty worn out, to be honest.  I hope I have a good quality of sleep and wake up without a headache. 

Tomorrow, Ron has his second colonscopy.  I hope we get more answers. 

Some days I just endure

Well, unexpected result on my talk with the neighbors about the little boy in the street. 

They switched their parking.  Now the "husband's" work truck abuts my property.  The "family car" is behind it, towards #8, now. 

I guess they didn't like me talking to the oldest.  Well, as Ron says control your animal.  Keep him off my property!  Keep him out of the street!   My PTSD does not need a small dead body in the road.   Ron made a sarcastic comment, to me (at home),  about them trying to thin the herd. 

I'm "sorry" I had to "remind" you his antics could put him in a wheelchair, or worse.  [rolleyes] 

If I had really understood the drama inherent with neighbors, I would have bought property out in the middle of nowhere.  It still baffles me, completely, why they think it is "not a big deal" to let the little boy run in the road a couple times a day, that I've seen. 

I remind myself, I've had worse. 

I know, I could do better.  I just hate it when they're home, and that's a sad statement.  I don't care about the other families surrounding me. 

It was supposed to be our day off.  I woke up at 5, no headache.  Woke up about 7:30 with a headache.  So, it's inherent to sleeping late. 

When I'm this depressed, all I want to do is sleep.  God blocks that in various ways. 

Yesterday I had odd abdominal pains.  I've mentioned this can happen when I'm depressed.  This morning I had a lot of gas, then I barely made it to the toilet before I had a mess. 

Bad enough, I'm afraid, it drove me to the disinfecting wipes (for the seat), and the shower (for me).  It was very discouraging.  It did get me in the shower.  I did my God Time later. 

I watched Supernatural reruns for a while, but it's the season right before the Apocalypse, and even the body-swapping episode is pretty depressing.  I took a nap. 

I didn't sleep well.  1.  Someone was making noise, playing loud music.  2.  #6 made some noise coming back from her errands.  and 3.  Biscuit wanted to hog the foot of the bed. 

I feel like a total shit because I bonked Biscuit with my burglar bars (swinging them closed) right as he was leaving.  I need to apologize.  He gave me such a look of bafflement and betrayal.  I got up around 1. 

I then filled out Ron's online registration forms for the colonoscopy.  Let me tell you, that was really depressing. 

My phone rang as I finished.  It was work related. 

Someone - maybe 2 people, could lose jobs if I explain, so I'll just say we had a ride to work, some work, and then came back home in some mysterious fashion.  That took another hour. 

When I came home I did my God Time.  Another hour down.  I took out the trash and accidentally bonked Biscuit with the burglar bars. 

Then I came in here to blog. 

I got rid of the mac & cheese I had for dinner last night.  It clearly doesn't agree. 

Ron's making alarming noises.  I hope this doesn't lead to a blackout. 

Ron got really, really, drunk.  I believe he is passed out on the floor right now. 

The Iceberg

I got a good night's sleep, thank God. 

I woke up and found the little boy next door running down my driveway into the street.  I resolved to mention it to a Responsible Person if I caught him at it again. 

When he gets run over, I want to be able to say I did what I could to prevent it.  You hear about it all the time, wild little toddler runs out where he shouldn't. 

Anyway, I went on with my day, and headed off to work.  Snacks didn't need much stocking, so I focused on helping Ron. 

At one point, a difficult lock that's been troubling us unmounted itself and came off in Ron's hand.  Great.  I managed to get it... or did I?  It wouldn't work for a minute but we finally got it done. 

The freezer guy came out.  Basically we have to thaw "the iceberg" that is our freezer and mop it all up.  Then he will come back and analyze it. 

Defrosting a freezer like that is a horrific job.  I am NOT looking forward to it. 

By that time, work was done and we went home.  I got a nap, praise God. 

I did my God Time sitting on the porch, enjoying a beautiful day.  Later on, Ron and I sat out on the porch, enjoying the weather. 

Severe weather is inbound later this week. 

Anxiety is better, but pretty post traumatic after finding #6's, kid #5, running in the street again, laughing joyously.  He really thinks it is a fun game.  "Come and get me".  I don't blame the child. 

I imputed, as calmly as possible, that was a Bad Idea, to the oldest boy.  "My husband is in a wheelchair because he got hit by a car".  I didn't tell him toddlers hit by cars die, but they do.  Hopefully the specter of the wheelchair will help them discipline him. 

I don't want to tell anyone what to do with their kids, unless they are just monsters, and they're not.  But I don't want to see him dead in the road either. 

Big People

Well, after months of watching little "cinco" (the fifth child, and third boy) run out into the street, playing catch-me-if-you-can with his mother and siblings, nearly run over by Metrolift twice because he likes to dart into the street, etc... I finally had a talk with his oldest sibling. 

"Do you know why my husband ended up in a wheelchair?"
"What?"
"Do you know why my husband ended up in a wheelchair?"
"No"
"He was hit by a car."  I indicated the little boy, standing in the gutter in front of my home.  "I just thought you should know that." 

I didn't bother to tell him that nearly every toddler hit by a car dies of the head trauma, and those who live - well, their parents wish they hadn't.  I figured the specter of his little brother in a wheelchair might make him a little more diligent. 

Now, if he does get hit, I can say "I warned them about letting the little boy run wild." 

"They need to whip him" I told Ron "One time, and he will never do it again."  That's what my parents did with me and my younger sibling - when we ran out in the street we were given a lecture and a beating that still smarts, in memory.  I also witnessed my younger stepbrother given the same treatment. 

Overall, they have nice kids, but this one sees the street and traffic as some sort of game.  He's run a block down, into very busy traffic, before coming back.  I've written about him before, I have a very bad feeling about this. 

Sometimes you need to whip them.  Then they understand, in very clear terms, that small brains can comprehend = if I go out there, I will hurt.  I will stay here. 

Otherwise, it's a fun game, on that gets him precious attention from the Big People. 

Exhausted

I'm disappointed in Ron, and it's a shame, because yesterday wasn't bad. 

We stayed home in the morning.  Normally I leave around 6.  #2 decided to play with his lawnmower around 8 AM, I was glad I was already awake. 

I had horrific anxiety all day about the neighbors (possibly) making noise and coming into my yard.  It was exhausting.  I think I'm going to talk to doc about aspartame. 

I took my shower, dressed, we went to Walmart around 4 PM.  Ron wanted more root beer.  We got it, and I got a few little things (including the cat sweater for Gravy).  I think the gray camouflage is cute because he has grey spots.  He was happy to get rid of it, but forgave me when I gave him a can of nasty fish cat food. 

We went to work.  We rode with a former driver, now a passenger.  They fired her for cleanliness issues - a supervisor told me.  Why am I sharing this gossip?  Well, she looked a lot better, clean hair, dyed hair, no odor (and there was, before!).  She seemed very depressed, using a walker now, and I told her I'd pray for her.  I also held her hand for a minute, and she squeezed it. 

I unloaded and we got to work.  We got everything stocked, and had a lot of fun.  Ron has been telling me lately, I'm wonderful, I'm such a good helper.  I am. 

It can be hard balancing what he needs vs the other jobs that need to be accomplished, but I think I do a good job.  I was, however, pretty worn-out from the anxiety and depression I've been battling this month. 

We encountered not one, but two, wrecks on the way home.  I'm glad we didn't participate. 

We got home and I sat at my computer.  Ron came in, almost immediately, asking questions about the sell by date on his hot dogs.  I told him I didn't want to check, could he eat something else?  He said he really wanted hot dogs.  I told him I was sure they were OK if the package was closed. 

A couple minutes later, he came in and almost stepped on Gravy, asking about his hot dog buns.  I said they were not usable (they weren't), to eat the hot dogs plain, and was there anything else?

He got very hurt and offended.  Still is today. 

I think my favorite quote was "I pay the bills.  It's your job to help me anytime I want it, 24/7." 

He can't run the business without me. 
The business generates our income.
Therefore, without me, we have no income. 
I pay the bills. 

I didn't get into it with him.  I could also make a point of doing nothing tomorrow and illustrating my point that way, but I don't like to punish the business when Ron's at fault. 

He kept demanding I apologize.  I said I will not apologize for setting a boundary.  His comment made it clear he expects me to have no boundaries when it comes to "helping" him. 

I also emphasized, again: I am happy to talk to you when I am in the computer room, but I don't want to "help" you when I'm in there. 

I only ever work on the computer, and do my God Time, in here.  I don't exist in here.  For one, it's a little crowded. 

Gravy likes to sleep by my feet. 

Gravy, in a sweater.

Long day, not a bad one, but lots of anxiety. 

And Gravy, in a sweater. 

Today

I slept in, woke up at 5 AM with a moderate headache.  I took some aspirin, put 2 Diet Dr Peppers in the fridge, and went back to sleep for a couple more hours. 

We had a trip planned, to the pet store. 

We were supposed to leave today but Ron got a pass due to the whole "crapping blood" thing. 

Glad to see it served a purpose. 

I took a shower (did my God Time later), and got ready.  Our ride was due at 9:30, didn't come until 11. 

I keep hearing how the service has all this great "on time" service, and I figure either they are the biggest liars in the whole world, or we are just very unlucky! 

We finally got there.  Ron had to adjust the pickup so we had time to get the cat food, a drink for him (I don't drink Starbucks since the owner said he doesn't want money from people who support conventional marriage), and a kolache for me.  As far as I know, the Kolache Factory is "cool". 

I was pretty queasy due to the aspirin.  It's an ongoing thing with my medication anyway. 

A Dr Pepper and some cream cheese kolaches helped a lot. 

I went and got the pet food.  The primary dry food is Blue Wilderness Salmon.  Ron also likes "Simply Nourish Grain Free Salmon", for the cats, but it has more supply chain issues. 

I admired the adoption kitties, all of whom wanted to live with the nice fat lady who smelled like cats, and cat food.  :) 

I have a full house, but I'll pray for you!  Like I told Ron, if they adopted the one-eyed solid black cat, these guys won't have a speck of trouble. 

I got some more Sheba.  They have a unit that has two small portions of cat food.  That is perfect for my gang.  They don't want a meal.  They want a snack.  The price was in my range.  I got one tray each of Seafood Entrée and Salmon.  I know they like salmon, but the seafood was even more popular when I got home. 

Speaking of... our driver arrived.  He asked Ron how he was doing.  Ron said something along his usual lines "Wondering why God made us prone to sin" or "Wishing God would come back" something like that. 

The driver is apparently The Man With All the Answers.  He started into lecture mode. 

I could tune most of it out, at first, he was just talking about some false prophet and pet theories about sin nature in humanity, but then he started in on the Bible. 

Don't.
Start.
With.
The.
Bible. 
Ever. 

Just don't do it.  I tried to ignore him, but the guy's 1.  A terrible driver... we almost got t-boned 3 times that I counted, on a 5 mile trip, if that.  2.  The guy can't follow directions.  I tell him to turn left, he gets in the right hand lane.  3.  False teacher. 

Bible Smugglers are my heroes.  I LOVE William Tyndale.  I told Ron, if I ever had a son I would have named him Tyndale and called him Dale.  Ron made a sour face. 

Here you go: William Tyndale

Anyway, the guy did a couple of things that bothered me.  One, he kept calling him Charles TINE-dale.  The name is WILLIAM.  Pronounced tin-dale. 

I don't want to get into all the details, so I'll highlight a few:

• Secret society hid the "real" Bible.  All other copies destroyed, except for one, carefully guarded by the Good Guys over the years. 
• Bad Guys try to promote current scripture as the Bible.  Good Guys attack them, promote the "true" word. 

God protects His Word.  He doesn't need people to do it for him.  He may need them to do some smuggling, fund it, or cover the process in prayer, but God can, and does, protect His Word. 

He is God after all. 

I just couldn't take it.  Between the false teachings, butchering of my childhood hero, complete failure to follow the most simple direction, and the abject lack of safety in his driving... I snapped. 

I shouted "Stop!  Now!" after he drove 2 houses past our house. 

"What, what did I do?" 

"Let me out" I said  "I can't take it anymore".  He unlocked the door and I stomped down the street to my home.  He followed and let Ron out. 

I still had to get my cat food, but I know how to open the tailgate.  I did that and was retrieving the cat food when he started talking again.

"You just need to know...."  I held up my hand. 

"Stop!  I don't want to hear it!"

"But I wasn't finished...you..."  I held up my hand again and leaned in. 

"I'm going to be quiet, and so are you."  He opened his mouth to protest "And if you do that, I won't call in (a complaint) on your horrible driving and tell them how you almost killed us three times on the ride home."  His mouth snapped shut.

"Well!"

I put my finger over my lips, and left. 

UGH! 

Ron was pretty horrified and upset, but understood when he calmed down.  For obvious reasons, I did not get a good quality nap. 

I don't begrudge him.  I think it's very sad that he's teaching all that, and even more tragic he does believe it. 

At one point Ron (who did not tell him to stop, and could have ended the whole thing if he had) asked "Are you a JW?" and the guy wouldn't answer. 

It's been my experience if someone is not, they are very quick to deny it. 

Later on we sat out on the porch (Ron and I, not the guy) and had a nice chat.  I like sitting out on the porch with him. 

He got drunk and may get a little much tonight, but we'll see. 

Thursday

I woke up, exhausted, on Thursday.  I did my God Time later, but did do my shower.  I used my "no frizz" hair care regime, which, to me, smells like rotted fruit salad.  However, it does the job and Ron likes the fragrance. 

We went to Sam's Club and got 60 cases (I checked), mostly drinks.  Boy, that was exhausting.  I also got what snacks I could manage to shove into the truck bed. 

We got to work.  Ron was very stiff so I had more unloading.  I got it all on the carts, stuffed it in there.  Our selections have been pretty popular (at least 50% sold out every time we come in).  I got everything stocked (! took a minute!), helped Ron, and, yet again, God performed miracles with space time laws and our tiny stockroom. 

Maintenance came and told us they are moving our fridge/freezer unit, but it's a good move for us.  I feel Ron will be a lot safer.  That's probably why they are doing it. 

Ron got his stuff accomplished and we left. 

I came home and took a nap, but only needed a half hour.  I ordered some pizza.  I don't know why, but the pizza place is very stingy with the sauce, when I order a thin crust.  I will have to order "extra sauce" or get the traditional style.  I'm glad I figured it out. 

Got my God Time, went to bed early.

Wednesday

Wednesday was pretty busy.  We went to work, came home, I got a short nap, we went to Arby's and the Dollar store.  We came home. 

Ron had the bright idea to make a later-night Walmart trip.  I, in my foolishness, thought it a good idea.  We went. 

The store was fine, a lot of people coughing, little kids running wild and screaming in Spanish, but lots of checkout lanes.  We were out of cat treats, so we kind of "had" to go. 

The actual trip went fine.  Our ride was sent to the cab company and a driver took it... then nothing, for over an hour.  My Walmart closes at midnight and we were well after 10 PM.  We also had a very early wakeup for "truck day".  Happily I had already managed to do my God Time. 

Anyway, the driver finally came and took us home.  It was like a scene from a bad movie, 3 people waiting on a cab, all of them wanting him, he was there for us.  I wanted him to drive away before we even got the setbelts fastened. 

The other people were pretty cranky.  I won't do that again. 

That was Wednesday.  Thursday starts with limited sleep due to the Walmart drama. 

Don't take it!

I finally got some sleep, about 10 hours, and woke up feeling charged if not energized.  Nuances. 

I got up, did my God Time, shower, teeth. 

It may interest you.  Since I have horrible gingivitis (it runs in the family, and I have a very dry mouth due to medication), I have to do a bit to care for my teeth.  I use the plaque buster rinse, brush with a child's toothbrush (gets into the nooks and crannies better), and floss.  Twice a day.  My gums seem happier and less swollen. 

Like a lot of people, I have nightmares about my teeth falling out.  Ugh.  I plan to put that off as long as possible, although Ron tells a story of a girlfriend who used to take her teeth out...

We went to Walmart.  Ron complained I wasn't "fun" and "was mean".  I told him it was depression; I wasn't mad at him.  We basically agreed mental illness sucks, and takes a toll on the whole family, yet another reason I never had kids.

If you are crazy, and bred, fine.  I don't tell people what to do.  But for me it wouldn't have been fair to the child. 

I decided to investigate the Sam-E.  However, I always read the label.  When it says "Do not purchase or use if you have bipolar disorder" - it's time to put it back on the shelf.  I did get some b-6, though.  It's supposed to be good for joints, depression, and bad gums (!).  I took it about an hour ago, I feel fine, so I don't think I'll have a reaction. 

I got everything I wanted on my list, travel food, mints (!) - dry mouth!, drink mix, energy bars, etc.  I put them in an old backpack when I got home.  I also got some beans & wieners, and small cans of veggies.  I can absolutely "do" that with my afternoon medications.  While taking a shortcut, I found a nice looking pair of steel-toed sneakers.  I got them.  They fit very well and are comfortable.  Nice toe bed, too.  Cute. 

I'll probably take those when we travel.  A kick from those will leave a lasting memory, should we encounter a Bad Person. 

I need to finish washing my jeans, but it's very hot and I'm not wanting to do it right now.  Ron doesn't like me to run the dryer and the air conditioner at the same time, and I agree. 

I bought some weatherstripping, still working on getting the cat door perfectly sealed.  It looks a lot better but there's still an air leak. 

But is that bad?  Fresh air is probably a good idea.  A little, at least. 

I also found some mouthwash with aloe, Echinacea, and Goldenseal.  Those are really good oral care herbs.  I bought it.  It tastes fine when I use it but it does have a interesting wakeup flavor, hours later.  I plan to use it at the end of my oral care routine. 

Shampoo, and tampons. 

My cycle FINALLY started.  In my worst nightmare I bleed on Ron's friend's sheets.  So I plan to bring tampons as a backup to my usual cup hygienic practices. 

The cup has been working fine for me.  I just wish my cycle were a little more reliable.  I never know how long I'll be spotting, the heaviness of the flow, or even when it's due.  Welcome to pre-menopause. 

I'm really ready to be done with it.  My only concerns would be cardiac - estrogen does help the heart, and bone - a woman loses bone mass after menopause.  I don't care about breast firmness or any of that.  Ron's not a boob man anyway.  I mean, he likes them, but it's not the primary focus. 

I have probably just ruined your dinner, and I apologize. 

We came home.  I felt awful.  I ate enough to hold my pills, and took them.  I went to bed, and got a good nap, in spite of ambient noise.  Ron was pretty quiet though. 

Torbie slept with me, next to my head, which I love (I won't squash her, yet she's available for petting and admiration).  She likes me to tell her she's pretty, and she is. 

I woke up, weatherproofed my shoes and new purse, put insoles in my shoes, took out the trash - Ron found the cane very helpful in getting it out to the front yard - then I filled it with "my" trash and took it out to the street.  I threw away an old pair of shoes developing holes in the soles, packed my food, and cleaned up the front room. 

I'm tired, but not exhausted.  Tomorrow looks to be pretty busy but not horrible. 

I don't want to be that person

I figured today would be difficult, I was right. 

First of all, I had to go to bed very early last night.  #6 had a lot of people over, I figured out later it must have been some kind of Bible study, but it had me up wondering if they were about to blast out a party. 

That, as it turned out, happened today when I was trying to nap. 

So, I had to get up at 2.  I did my God Time later (not long ago, in fact).  I took my shower, shaved my legs, because I just wasn't 100% certain.  I treated my "hangnail" on my toe with some tea tree oil (love that stuff). 

I got dressed and went outside.  I didn't want to wait inside, because, many times, the driver pulls up, dispatch radio blasting, shouting a cheerful good morning, banging the wheelchair ramp, etc. 

I don't like to disturb the neighbors.  I know one of them's up about the same time anyway, but the others are not. 

So, when she pulled up, yelling Good Morning, I asked her, politely, to please keep it down, because my neighbors were still asleep.  She gaped at me as if she'd never heard any such thing in her life. 

Well, your other passengers may not care if they disturb the neighbors, but I do.  I don't want to be that person. 

I would not want to make noise before 8 AM.  I could do it earlier, because my other neighbors are up by then, but if they're obviously still asleep I try to respect that. 

I've had people wake me up at night (before I murdered the doorbell), and I didn't have anything nice to say about it. 

I don't want to be that person. 

So, the driver got all indignant and acted as if we had offended her, by asking her not to talk in our driveway (which is right next to 2 of #6's kiddie bedrooms).  I know for a fact, someone talking outside in their driveway, or near your bedroom - the sound travels.  One time years ago some guy came banging on #6's door, yelling and having some kind of crisis.  They had an intense discussion standing outside in the yard, right next to my bedroom wall.  I heard every word - but I don't speak Spanish so I have no idea what it was about. 

They kept their voices down, but I still heard everything.  People don't realize, a house is not soundproof. 

So.  She was kind of mopey, the driver.  She really likes the other paratransit client who travels to work.  I think they are a little too attached. 

But that's their issue, not mine. 

I got to work and realized snacks didn't need much, aside from candy and pastry.  I did that. 

I told Ron I could be his lackey and follow him around all day, he was happy to hear it.  Lackey work is boring and involved a lot of sitting around waiting for him to make requests.  I'm glad I have my own work to do. 

We got the soda delivery.  It was a new guy.  The other vendor was pissed because he just dropped off the pallet.  I didn't care, he brought 3 loads on a hand truck for me and I put it all away myself.  Just because some of the guys unload (not in the job description), doesn't mean they all will.  I got him a snack and sent him on his way after we paid him. 

We had plenty of soda.  I don't think I could have stashed another case in our area.  Happily, we had sandwiches.

I got the delivery, stocked them, and put away the empty tray. 

Next up, soda machine.  They called to inform us they were on the way.  I took the lock out of the old machine (not hard if you know what to do), and stuck it in my pocket. 

I probably have machine grease in my pocket - it's like one of those police dramas "She had machine grease in her pocket, and this key fits a vending machine - she was in vending!" 

They brought the new machine (which appears to be a little glitchy), and took away the old one (a lot worse).  I installed the lock and verified the pricing.  Ron loaded up the change bank.  I stocked it. 

I put up a note telling them the drinks would be cold after 2, so they should be fine by now. 

That all done, we left. 

I came home, so exhausted.  I just wanted a nap.  But today is a school holiday, and #6 has little friends over to run and scream in the yard.  I tried, twice.  I figured it is hot and humid, sunny, but they keep running in and out of the house, yelling at the top of their lungs right next to my bedroom, screaming, etc. 

I don't do well with sleep deprivation.  I'll just have to wait until later.  We have nearly a month until the next school holiday, which should be interesting with the baby's first birthday party right around Thanksgiving.  In Mexican culture, the first birthday is an occasion for a loud, adult, party. 

That is not going to be a fun week, but we'll probably be busy.  Maybe I can set it up to sleep in late and work in the afternoons. 

The repairman will be out on Wednesday to help us work out the glitchy soda machine. 

Imagination

I woke up around 8 AM, pretty depressed. 

We have to get up (I do, at least) at 2 AM tomorrow.  We have three deliveries and a repairman, coming in.  The repairman has proven rather erratic. 

"He laughed at little too hard" Ron said last week "At my joke about sobering up before he came by".  [twitch]

I didn't take a shower, but I did do my God Time.  I watched Law & Order reruns.  I took my medication. 

I got tired, and considered going to bed again, to grab some sleep.  I regret I didn't. 

I did go to bed around noon, but shortly afterward, Mr. #6 let his children out to play, loudly, in the backyard right next to my bedroom wall.  I got up for a while.  I noticed he was also playing music.  In my experience, hyperactive children + music = party.  Now, they are "about" due for a party due to my calculations, but I figured it to be next weekend.  However, 3 strange cars out in front of the house kind of contradict that point. 

I waited until the kids wore out (not long, in this heat) and put some cinderblocks behind my gate.  As you know, I have had ongoing problems with the kids during parties, bringing their friends to have their own party in my yard 'cause they "Lost the ball". 

I didn't have a problem with "getting the ball".  I did have a problem with 10 kids running around in my yard, chasing each other, and screaming. 

I finally realized they never had this problem in other yards, and, a few months ago, said "We have the same deal you have with the other neighbors - don't come over, when I find the ball I will throw it back - but don't come over at all.  You are disturbing my very sick husband."  I had told them, repeatedly, not to come over asking for the ball, or permission to enter the yard, because the doorbell-ringing was waking Ron. 

I also disabled the doorbell, last month. 

Last Christmas the kids didn't come over, but an adult did, in a sneaky fashion, and I wasn't happy.  What part of stay off my property is so hard to understand, especially when you respect that with the other two neighbors? 

Anyway, it would be very difficult to open my gate now. 

I came back in and watched The First 48 for a little bit, then went back to bed again. 

This time, I did sleep for a couple of hours.  That's all I need, that, a couple of hours tonight, and ideally a couple more hours tomorrow, when we get home. 

Soda delivery day is just Not Fun. 

Ron's cane arrived.  He had been musing the other day, how he wanted something "Not the wheelchair, the walker, or hanging onto you".  I told him I'd ordered the cane. 

He was pretty upset at first: "I'm not old!". 

"Ron", I said with amusement "You use a wheelchair.  That personifies "feeble".  Yet you don't want to use a cane?"  He agreed it didn't make sense. 

He agreed, the next day, to "try" the cane.  He has been marching all over the house with it, a spring in his step.  He looks good. 

"I see you using it at home (not when you're drinking - as he laughed), a restaurant, or maybe Walmart - just a place you aren't going to be walking much, and maybe don't need the walker."  He nodded. 

I told him he didn't put as much weight onto me when he held onto my shoulder, which I liked.  He didn't know it was a problem, and it's not, but going up stairs or coming off a curb it can be - I'd be putting over 300 pounds on one knee joint.   I always shake him off at that point. 

He is only wearing briefs and a t-shirt today, so no photo. 

You'll just have to use your imagination. 

The strangeness

I'm sleeping better, but still have a hard time falling asleep. 

I woke up pretty exhausted.  I did my shower, and my God Time later (before I got online, that's my rule - if I have enough energy for this I have enough for Him). 

Sure enough, my Haldol perked me right up.  I have no idea why, it's not supposed to do that.  And it didn't, at a lower dose. 

We went to the warehouse and loaded up.  The cart attendant was late to work so I had to load most of the truck myself. 

I had a nasty headache, so I ate a muffin before I took my painkiller (two doses of OTC painkillers today).  It helped. 

I got to work and got everything stocked - things were pretty wiped out.  It's great they like what we're doing, but it's a little scary too. 

I was able to finish my work and help Ron with his, with both of us happy.  Good. 

We left and had a good ride home.  I took a nap, but Ron forgot and woke me up.  I heard some other noise but I still slept for over an hour. 

I got up, did my God Time (!), and got online for a little bit.  Later on, we went out to dinner. 

I was happy to eat my pancakes and link sausage.  Somehow I knew I could eat the sausage, normally a nauseating food. 

Ron and I have one outing planned for tomorrow, but nothing else.  We have to get up very early Monday. 

That's never fun, but it is necessary.  You can't imagine the strangeness of working for hours, looking out the window, and it's still dark out. 

End of the Line

Addressing comments: Ray Bradbury wrote a very good book on writing.  The significant part, for me, he said, just let it all erupt onto the page.  Don't worry about how it sounds.  Just get it out, then edit later. 

Yes, Ron is still drinking, up to about 8 ounces hard liquor, a day.  He isn't bleeding - not yet. 

I had to ditch a couple of people on Facebook.  One did the "Medication makes you a shooter" routine.  I've written enough on that, I find it absolutely enraging.  You would NEVER say that to a diabetic or heart patient.  I imagine some epileptics still get "the business" though, because of the nature of the seizures.  Anyway, I was furious, confronted her, she got an attitude, so I dumped her.  I would have agreed to disagree if she had taken the original post down. 

The second one does what I find from some "hardcore" Christians.  "Oh, Halloween is a devil holiday.  I won't celebrate the devil!"  Even if it means you can evangelize dozens of children?  Really?  I mentioned I have reached over 700 to date with Scripture Booklets and she got an attitude "Don't tell me...blah blah"  Fine, screw it, delete.  I wouldn't have had a problem if she'd agreed to disagree. 

You'll notice a common theme: holier than thous telling me what to do. 

I get a lot of traffic from other countries, sometimes I wonder if my colloquialisms are confusing to them.  I hope not. 

I am sleeping better since I switched my Haldol dosing.  For whatever reason, it wakes me up.  So, I take it in the morning. 

Yesterday I got up at 4 AM, no shower or God Time - depressed.  We went to Sam's Club, but the driver was early, so we ended up sitting outside the store 40 minutes before opening.  Ron had his digital talking book machine:

You can put a flash drive in the port next to the green circle.  It will now play your digital music. 

Ron did that, and played classic rock, which found us singing "Carry on my Wayward Son" outside the store at 6:30 in the morning. 

We got a couple cases each of water, and soda, I got some Halloween candy for the kids.  We went to work.  We had "quite a while" and ended up needing every second. 

Which reminds me, I need to file the accounting report when Ron wakes up. 

We went home, I took a short nap.  NO matter how much I sleep, I am always tired.  I accept that.  I don't like it but I accept it. 

We got up and went to a nearby diner.  I got a make-your-own-omlette.  Oh, screw it.  Bite me, spellchecker. 

We had a nice meal.  Our waiter had terrible acne. 

I don't think I told you, I had terrible acne as a teenager.  It started about age 11.  I remember the first time, my sister, of all people (I later cut off contact) grabbed my head one day and began poking at my skin in a painful manner.  "You have a blackhead" she said accusingly. 

I squawked and yelped in pain as she demanded I "sit still!" and pinched my skin painfully.  I inherited my Dad's oily skin. 

She finally "got it out" to her satisfaction, showed me a tiny amber cone on her fingertip, and read my stepmother the riot act on hygienic practices.  My stepmother asked me what happened, I told her, she peered at my skin, and gently told me to use a warm washcloth on my skin every day to help "open the pores". 

My skin became so bad I was prescribed Retin-A.  I hated it, it made my skin peel and burn.  I had pimples on my face, neck, chest, and back.  People loved to pick at them. 

Except my stepmother.  She had nails, that would have hurt.  But doctors, a boyfriend, etc.... odd. 

If I could go back in time, I would advise her, and my younger self, to take a Vitamin A supplement.  That's all I needed. 

I didn't know that, so I got pretty good at managing them and the various stages.  When I could pop them, when to leave it alone, which ones would never pop (cystic), etc.  I have some acne scars on my cheekbones but nothing too bad.  My worst scar is on my right chin, and I don't even remember it. 

Ron of course didn't care, but by the time I hit my mid 20's the worst of it was past, especially when I began taking a Vitamin A supplement.  I only wish I'd known sooner. 

Anyway, the poor waiter so reminded me of my younger self.  I was dying to suggest a Vitamin A supplement.  I've decided to buy an extra, and give it to him with a note in the bag telling him about my former "problem" and how it helped. 

That was the other thing I hated - EVERYONE telling me their remedy/solution.  It was so bad "Santa" even left a bar of acne soap in my Christmas stocking every year.   I want to be respectful. 

He knows he has a problem. 

That is the great thing about Ron, I could have a pimple the size of a quarter and he wouldn't know unless someone told him. 

We went home, and had a great ride with one of my favorite (other) passengers and his wife, who is just as fun.  I really like them. 

I was exhausted when I got home, but we weren't done yet. 

I put away the leftovers.  Ron accidentally ran over Gravy with the walker, Gravy rolled back and attacked Ron's foot until he "backed off".  Ron then offered him treats, which were eaten, and Gravy licked Ron's hand in forgiveness. 

I got to thinking about Ron's ambulation.  I think he could go to a support cane instead of the walker.  If he doesn't "use it" he will "lose it". 

So, I looked on Amazon and found him a cane.  I got him the gray.  We'll see how it works.  I know Ron would like to be more independent, and aspects of walker use frustrate him.  He's not ready for straight ambulation yet, but I think he'd do well with the cane. 

We will find out in a few days.  He doesn't know. 

I went to bed. 

We got up about the same time today, around 7 AM.  That's "sleeping in" for me.  Happily it's generally quiet when I am sleeping. 

I did my shower and God Time, and decided to go to the thrift store at "the end of the line" for my local bus route.  I did that. 

I had about a 20 minute trip each way.  Normally it is an exhaustive, long, process over an hour each way.  I had fun.  I got a couple books and a small toy cat, came back home. 

Ron and I did a little text & chat.  It was fun to just talk to him without him NEEDING something.  Caregivers and parents will understand. 

Not that I'm his mother!  HA! 

I took a short nap, some background noise so it was a little odd.  One of the guys on my street is remodeling so it has been pretty loud every day.  I still managed a little sleep. 

Once I finish this post, I need to file the accounting report (Ron will get me the numbers) and then buy the bus tickets online. 

Yesterday was horribly long, more later

Hard Times

I slept, horribly, again.  I have to think it's the Haldol.  I felt like I had 5 Mountain Dews (or cups of coffee).  I kept tossing and turning. 

Torbie knows I am having Hard Times so she got into bed with me.  I loved that.  I kept petting her as I'd toss and turn, she didn't mind.  I did have to move her out of Bed Central a couple times, because I couldn't roll over. 

Funny how a 12 pound cat can occupy so much square footage. 

Alarm went off, I hit snooze a few times, and got up.  My bedding is starting to smell funny so I did a load of laundry (bedding) before we left for work. 

Work wasn't too bad, about 33% sold out as opposed to 50-75%.  I had a lot of work to do on my candy, though.  We sell a candy bar for $1.  Our wholesale cost is between .60 and .65 cents, so it "should" be $1.25.  A gas station or convenience store sells them for a little under $2, for a standard size. 

They know it's a great deal, and they take advantage.  I hear horror stories of 7-day weeks, mandatory overtime for all, etc.  No wonder they're wanting the sugar. 

I helped Ron as much as I could.  I was a little hurt by one remark.  He asked for a Coke.  I had just finished stocking a row of candy so I threw the empty box in my trash and got it.  When I got over to Ron, he wasn't ready for it. 

He got rather rude, saying "Well, normally it takes you so long...."  I thought that was pretty awful to say to the person who's helping him, and I said just that.  He went on for a minute how I never help him the second he needs me, etc. 

I reminded him I have a LOT of other work to do, but if he wanted we could schedule extra time so I could follow him around and jump whenever he yelled "frog".  Otherwise, I told him, he might have to wait a minute if my hands were full, or I was helping a customer (I make a lot of change).  He eventually shut up but I was hurt. 

We had to go to the bank.  Ron does a periodic "change dump" now and then.  He counts the quarters on a machine we've modified so he can use it.  He puts the coins into buckets with screw on caps.  We put the buckets into large, zippered, tote bags. 

We went to the bank, walked in, and they didn't have the special deposit bags.  From my Facebook:

Today, insane. Some highlights, lugging 2 monster buckets of change to the bank to do a "change dump". But the bank was out of bags. "You mean" I almost wept "I have to take these ON THE BUS, TO WALMART?" They had a consultation and made a supply run, got 'er done.
 
After Walmart (Ron's prep stuff for colon run #2 is really free), the driver is an hour late and showed up with a MASSIVE attitude. How can you not find a Super Walmart, with a GPS, a Keymap, and a dispatcher? Needless to say we took another ride, instead.

I wished I could join Ron for a drink when we got home, did my God Time instead

So, as you can imagine, pretty awful.  I don't know - the driver was playing some kind of game.  All the drivers know the location of the Super Walmart and she was not a new driver. 

I was pretty pleased with my approach: When she pulled up she came over and said "Ronald?"  (generally people use his first name if they don't want to attempt pronunciation of the last name).  I said, "That's us, but after an hour of waiting, we got another ride.  He will be here in a minute".  She had a tantrum.  I couldn't believe it - how unprofessional! 

We were out here waiting, well before the pickup time.  We waited an hour.  We were nice when you pulled up, an hour late.  We, however, were sick of playing games. 

After that attitude, I was really glad I didn't have to entrust my safety to her. 

Ron will get a "bad point", he is allowed 5 a month, and only has today's.  Worth it, we agreed.  Our friend gave us a ride home instead, and we gave him some gas money which basically bought him dinner. 

That was an all around win.  I put some stuff together for Salvation Army.  I have concluded it is safe to say I will not be a size 12 again, so I'm giving them my box of "Mediums".   I'll just tell Ron it's "old clothes". 

I'm adjusting the Haldol so I take it in the morning.  If it wakes me up, let it. 

I just need to make my bed so I can lie in it! 

Happytown

Tough day, with depression, but I think I managed a lot. 

1. Got my shower
2. Took Ron to the mall, in spite of vicious headache.
3. Slew the headache
4. Came home, took meds, nap.
5. Accounting report.
6. Housecleaning
7. Took out trash.
8. Loads of laundry
9. Made Ron a double batch of split pea soup (from scratch).  He's very happy and says it helps his colon. 
10. Put up the soup in the freezer. 
11. Did up my meds for the week, and took the rest of the day's dose. 

Meds definitely get me to functional; not Happytown.   Doc says that's to be expected. 

"It's her pork roast".

I could just cry today. 

The pork roast turned out good.  Even Gravy wanted some.  Ron was on the toilet and heard him begging, and laughed.  The baby "Yellow Dutch" potatoes made the whole meal.  They did not get mushy. 

Things went fine at work.  All is back to normal, except for the water.  We will get our own, and to me it's truly worth the extra effort. 

We came home and I took a nap.  Biscuit laid on me and we had a good one, but I was a little stiff due to lack of movement.   Ron wanted, and ate some pork roast, then had a horribly bloody bowel movement.  Yike. 

We went to the doctor's office.  They liked my documentation.  Boy, I had a lot.  Doc was NOT impressed with either of the reports, so has scheduled Ron for a new colonscopy.  He doesn't agree with the UC diagnosis, either. 

So, God only knows.  Ron claimed it was my pork roast.  I can't help laughing every time he says that. 

Doc ordered a blood test.  Medicare may or may not pay for it.  I sure hope they do.  It wasn't cheap, but it will help them figure out what's wrong. 

Oh, I thought this was done with.  When I got home and sat down, I just wanted to cry.  Loving someone really puts your nuts in a vice. 

When I got home, my neighbor appeared to have installed a new gate.  I'm not 100% certain though, I try not to be the nosy neighbor.  At any rate, if they did work it happened while I was gone.  I also noticed someone fixed our back fence, I had about 8 feet that had totally rotted out.  I put some plywood against it years ago but that was it.  Anyway, someone went at it from the back side (not my yard) and made a nice wood fence.  Now I actually have a fairly secure backyard. 

I don't know whether is was the people behind me, on the left.  They are also behind #6, who just replace his back fence, and most of theirs.    Maybe they disliked the rotted out section so much they just had it done, everything else was pristine.  It appears that way. 

Or, knowing I get bitey when people come in my yard, they may have gone through his fence and done it from the back, not entering my yard. 

At any rate, some nice people fixed my fence while I was with Ron at the digestive diseases doctor. 

Even nicer, when I went to get the mail a neighbor up the street, and across, met me at the mailbox and made a point of thanking us for being "So quiet, I never hear a peep out of you".  

"That's the idea!" I replied with a grin.  "I hate party animals!"

"You got that right," she said, looking at #6 "Animals".  I snickered. 

I didn't mention I was the cat lady.  I figured if she didn't know, I wouldn't tell. 

[sigh]  Anyway, the headache's finally gone.  I need to be better about handing Ron over to God. 

I just wish this were OVER. 

Can and will be used against you

I slept OK, but woke up horribly depressed. 

I managed my God Time, but not my shower.  I used the bath wipes (they are designed for home care). 

Ron, I could tell, had been battling colitis issues.  He was having a lot of symptoms.  We're not sure if it's the BBQ, raw cucumber salad, or the potatoes, but some combination launched an epic flare.  Poor baby. 

I decided, in the interest of "keeping the peace" I will "apologize" on Monday.  Something along the lines of "I'm sorry if you felt attacked, that wasn't my intent".  Even though I am deeply frustrated and nearly certain he set it up to inconvenience me, even though he was very alarming in his behavior after he lost his temper, I'll do it in the interest of "keeping peace".  He said he had "told" the other vendor, so I may have to deal with him too. 

I can't tell you how much it pissed me off, when Ron did the "Oh, you know Heather, she can't help herself" routine.  How about "Why were you cursing my wife in front of a roomful of people?  No, I don't care what you think she did.  You don't do that."  This, I'm convinced, is one reason so many hide their illness.  They know it can and will be used against them in the court of public opinion. 

In that court, no matter what happens, it is always the crazy person's fault.  I have occasionally, bitterly, wondered if Ron would blame me if I were raped.  "Oh, well, I'm sure she was acting provocatively, you know those bipolar girls." 

That's really sad to type.  I feel he should always have my back, or at the very least listen to my side of things before throwing me under the bus, blaming me for things that are NOT my fault, and blaming me for other people's "psycho" behavior. 

I don't care what people do, nothing they do ought to "make" you go off to the point you are literally chasing them around the workplace, cursing them, shouting at them, etc.  But, I'm the bad guy because I admit I have mental illness. 

It's not the first landmine I've thrown myself over, to save the business. 

That's how I've been running today.  We did go to Walmart.  Doc's assistant wrote prescriptions for ONE month refills, not three.  That's aggravating, and far more expensive.  Instead of $130 for three, it was $70 for one. 

Now, if money's that tight, it's that tight.  I remember a couple years ago his helper wrote anxiety pills, diabetes medication (I guess because I am overweight, I just look diabetic), and sleeping pills.  When they called to tell me I said "I don't even want to see that crap".  Although I might have wanted Metformin. 

It will be useful when we go to Austin.  I can just bring the bottles.  All of them.  The many many bottles.  Boy, I don't feel crazy until I get a look at all that medication. 

5 bottles of crazy, one nausea medication for migraines (it turns down the volume without making me freak out like other things), the ginger root (for nausea prevention), some kind of OTC pain reliever (I chose Naproxen), etc.  It's wearying.  I'm glad I do my medication up once a week.  Pills of the week work best for me. 

I figured out the antidepressant is the expensive one, at least in the one-month.  $40.  The other stuff was nothing. 

Ron got his bill from the hospital, for the ER visit.  It was about $250.  The entire bill was about 13 THOUSAND, but after "adjustments" Medicare paid about $700.  Ron now owes the balance, but that's not bad, considering. 

I really need to look for better insurance.  We went cheap, a mistake if I get really sick. 

So, we went to Walmart.  I bought a rice pot with a steamer attachment.  That might prove interesting.  I dug out my old crockpot. 

I bought dry rub - I hope "seasoning blend" is the same thing.  I have a nice pork roast already.  I got the baby potatoes.  Yum.  Ron won't get the potatoes but he can enjoy the meat. 

To my way of thinking, a person with colitis should be focusing on antioxidants and protein, anyway.  I know I don't get enough protein so I am focusing on that. 

When I eat a lot of protein, my snacking decreases. 

I'll remind you I'm in the snack foods business.  That could get ugly when I'm stressed and hungry. 

I plan to make a pork roast tonight/tomorrow.  I plan to layer some baby potatoes in the bottom of the crock.  I may or may not cook some rice "in addition". 

To do that, I'm going to have to organize my counter (again) and organize the fridge (again).  I plan to use a very simple recipe for the roast.   If it's good, I'll share. 

Next on my cooking list, a squash soup.  I can always use more vitamin A and a huge chunk of Vietnamese "Pumpkin" was only a dollar.  It's cooked in coconut milk with some chicken broth. 

Oh, and I have to organize the front room, again.  It is overtaking everything. 

I set up all the stuff for Ron's doctor visit tomorrow, pathology report, endoscopy report, 3 page medical history, delicious chocolatey "Copay".  Fun sized candy bars are always welcome at the medical facility.  Always. 

Unless, I suppose, it were a weight loss clinic. 

Edit, I talked to Ron.  "I really need to feel you have my back".  He said not to worry, he would handle everything. 

Truck day, glorious weather

It got down in the 50's last night, so I threw an extra couple blankets on the bed.  One cotton bedspread, 3 fleece blankets, one wool blanket (in between the other layers).  I was very comfortable. 

I didn't sleep as well as I would have liked, or as long, but I didn't have nightmares. 

I decided to try my porridge.  I bought it yesterday.  It is a mixture of ground beans and grains.  It is faintly sweet.  However, it was very runny at the directed amount of water.  I'll try it again tomorrow at half the suggested water. 

It wasn't bad, though, just different. 

I ate an energy bar to be sure, and took my medication. 

We went to the warehouse, and got a LOT of merchandise.  Ron called, at one point, while I was pushing the fully laden hand cart, by body at a 45 degree angle.  He wanted to know why I was panting, when I answered.  "I was pushing" I choked.  "Oh". 

I had not one, but two, nice young men help me load.  Ron had a colitis attack as we got to work, so he was out of the picture for a while.  I unloaded what I could, checked on Ron, and brought him out to help push the drinks to the tailgate, so I can remove them. 

That's "our deal". 

He had another colitis attack.  I don't think potatoes are on the good list.  We'll let Doc tell him that, Monday. 

I got everything into the building, and began stocking.  Ron didn't need much help today.  We got it all done just in time. 

We had a good ride home, and took a  nap.  #6 made some noise but not a tremendous amount.  I still slept. 

The weather here is glorious, low 80's/upper 70's, sunny and breezy.  This is why people spend so much money to live in CA and Hawaii. 

We're going out to dinner, imminently.  If anything interesting occurs I will update. 

Under the bus.

Pretty upset today.  I feel Ron threw me under the bus (betrayed me when I needed his support). 

What happened?  Well, first I have to explain the stockroom.  I was "given" about 10% of the available space.  I have 34 square feet in which to stock 9 vending machines.  I have a corner in the front (the other guy wanted the pilferers to go after my merchandise, as he blocks his with carts and supplies). 

Our boss had to fight for me to get 2 racks.  I was "lucky" to get the space I had, but needless to say it is very crowded.  I have two, 6 foot high metal racks, 18 inches deep, with shelving.  I have a row of milk crates along the other wall, about 6 feet, stacked with canned soda.  I have two, rolling handcarts that can hold additional merchandise, and I have just enough room (if I set the handcarts over the base) for an additional folding handcart. 

The other vendors do not use their space effectively, things are spread out all over, poor use of vertical space, soda NOT on milk crates (that's a health law thing).  They also spill soda frequently and track it, leaving nasty black adhesive slime everywhere.  We have had complaints - frequent ones, about this. 

A few years ago I got in trouble with the other vendor because (after repeated requests and notifications of management complaints), I reported this to the boss.  The did clean up, a little, but it went right back to business as usual. 

I keep MY area clean, so I don't care what they do with theirs.  But it does make me look bad.  I have explained, repeatedly, to angry customers who've seen the door open.  "That's not my mess, it's theirs, they won't mop." 

Anyway, the other vendor has 4 employees: his wife, his brother (the person of interest in this story), his nephew (a very nice young man), and his stepgrandson. 

You will remember last month, the brother was the one telling me I was "stupid, for not getting Ron better insurance" when I thought he had cancer.  I just looked at him and said "How is that going to help me?" 

Fred, we'll call him, has a lot to say over the years about his lazy, unreliable, son.  He doesn't work.  He is not disabled, but claims he has extraordinary back issues.  He also has frequent other health issues.  So, he's lazy, unrelable, and sickly.  Oh, and he's been fired from every job he had.  Per his father. 

Fred's solution when it looked like Ron had cancer and I would have to run the business by myself?  Oh, I HAD to hire Fred, Jr.  He would be such a big help.  He kept shilling his son (who, at over 30, should be able to find his own employment), in a frenzied fashion. 

So, you want to inflict an unreliable, sickly, lazy - in your own words, kid onto me, just to get him off the teat for a couple of days?  He would ruin my business, but clearly you don't care about that. 

I finally told him, no thanks.  We would not be hiring Junior.  "Why not?"   I just said I would be able to manage the business on my own.  I wasn't worried about assistance, I was just worried about transportation. 

This when he wasn't lecturing me about health insurance and calling me names on top of that. 

Ron came to an arrangement with the other vendor.  We would buy 10 cases of water, a week, from them.  It was a very good deal for the other vendor.  Their wholesaler requires a 50 case minimum.  We just dropped it to 40.  They require a minimum order total.  We just dropped that by nearly $100.  It's all good, for them. 

Ron likes it because he doesn't feel he's "abusing" me by "making" me get water at the warehouse.  The other vendor kept harping on that - Ron was abusing me by "making" me get water at the warehouse.   However, I have had ongoing issues with the water.  They put it on the very top shelf, 6 feet up.  These are 40 pound cases.  There is NO safe way to get these cases down. 

They have also shorted me a couple times, but I didn't mention that to Ron. 

Anyway, I have begged and pleaded and requested and cajoled and everything nice to say "Please don't put the water on the top shelf". 

I told them (2 guys) on Wednesday.  I said, "Please put it here, and the leftovers on a table."  I told both guys we will be working on Friday, please leave the water on a table.  I said this several times. 

I slept horribly last night and awoke with a migraine.  Imagine how I felt when I got into work and found all the water on the top shelf. 

"Why didn't you put it on the table?" 

"You didn't tell us"

"Yes, I did, Wednesday, I have a migraine and now I have to rearrange everything [no joke] to get this fixed.  Why couldn't you leave it on the table?  I've begged you, please don't put it on the top shelf!"  I was almost in tears. 

I'm sure I sounded frustrated, as only someone who said 6 different times, to two different people: please don't do this - only to find it done. 

Then the guy told me "As long as you're getting our water, we're going to put it wherever we want". 

"Fine" I replied "I'll get it at Sam's Club."  I'm doing them a favor, I can certainly stop, and I won't have this stupid endless drama either. 

The other vendor's wife is pretty upset about this, by the way, but she needs to learn to control her animals.  I'm not going to have some creep screaming at me - and he went off, shouting how "He wasn't going to take it from me" blah, blah. 

"I think" I told someone who overheard "He has some issues at home, did this on purpose, because he knew I would complain, then he gets a free explosion."  Now he can stomp around, sulk, pout, scream verbal abuse at me (because Ron's not going to stop him), because he can.  What he really needs to do is throw his loser kid out. 

This guy actually followed me around, while I was stocking, screaming at me in front of a roomful of postal workers.  Talk about unprofessional.  I just did my work. 

At one point he was shouting it was my fault, if I'd had more room - and I turned around and said "Your brother took nearly the entire stockroom.  If you have problems with the amount of space I have, you need to take it to him." 

He followed me over to Ron, screaming.  Ron tried to shut him up, just because Ron hates yelling.  The guy kept screaming at both of us.  Again, in front of an entire roomful of people. 

Oh, and he made very rude attacks on my illness.  I didn't rise to the bait. 

I could have said "Well, at least I take my medication".  If I wasn't saved, I would have. 

Ron blames me entirely.  It is All My Fault.  If I hadn't - provoked this guy - then he wouldn't have gone off.  I tried to explain, I did everything I could to communicate, short of tattooing it on his hand.  He said "OK." and "I got it".  He repeated it back to me.  "I'll put the water on the table". 

What else could I do? 

I had some very understandable impatience but I never yelled at him.  I left the scene when he started shouting at me.  I did everything I could to avoid confrontation even though the guy was literally hunting me. 

He was the one following me around.  He made personal attacks, I didn't.  I did everything I could to avoid this, by communicating every way I know on Wednesday. 

That's why I have to think he did this to set me up and play games.  I know he heard me say to leave it on the table, I know he heard me say we'd be working Friday.  He knows, at 5'7, I can't get the water off the top shelf. 

"No one's that stupid" I told Ron, in one of his rare moments of calm.   

However, Ron thinks I just "went off" and "trying to ruin his business".  I told him I am sick to death of playing these water games.  I would far rather buy our own water at the warehouse, as needed, and store it where I want. 

Ron doesn't feel that way.  He's furious at me, screamed at me in front of Fred, which I really didn't like (not to mention the roomful of Postal Workers), screamed at me at home, etc.  Some of that goes to head injury. 

I'm just really hurt he didn't even try to hear my side. 

Anyway, the other vendor's wife came by after Fred finally left.  I explained what had happened, and reiterated, in a pleading fashion "I cannot have water on the top shelf".  I told her we would be getting it from Sam's now. 

She wasn't happy about that - now she has to buy +$100 and +10 cases every week - but like I said, control your animal.  The guy isn't stable - makes me look like Ghandi. 

"None of them had a problem with the way I presented the issue" I told Ron "It was just the one man". 

For whatever reason, they decided they had to mop the stockroom RIGHT THEN.  I found it hysterical.  Maybe they are calling the boss to come out and know he will yell at them.  Maybe they think I will call the boss about it. 

Hey, if you want to be a pig it only makes you look bad.  I just thought it was very odd, mopping the floor - they hadn't spilled anything.  Yes, it was filthy, but just as filthy as usual. 

Whatever.  I am SO glad they are not giving us a ride to that conference, anyway. 

We came home, I took a nap. 

When I got up, I went to the Vietnamese Grocery store.  The rice pots were extremely expensive.  I'm sure they're wonderful but that is just too much.  I did find some great deals on fresh, local, veggies.  I bought enough for a week's worth of stir-fry, salads, and some stew, for $9.  I also got a pork roast.  I haven't cooked a roast in ages. 

I had fun, it was a little heavy coming home but not overly so.  I'll tell you more about my goodies tomorrow.