A lot about a bag of pretzels

Ron had a tantrum today and threw my bag of pretzels on the floor. 

Why?  I was "rushing" him to "get out of the kitchen". 

I am conditioned to say "I'm sorry, but".  No, I'm NOT sorry, there was water all over the floor and I needed to clean it up.  The condenser pan for the fridge apparently overflowed.  He wanted to ignore it, sit on his walker, and drink vodka, I simply asked him to "please move so I can get on with the cleanup".  He then said he was "tired" of holding my pretzels, and would "put them on the floor" if I didn't get them that second.  I was busy mopping. 

So, he threw them on the floor.  Why?  Because he could, and he wanted to have a tantrum because I was getting between him and his vodka. 

Years ago, Ron was complaining that his vodka was "disappearing".  He was also having blackouts.  I think he even accused me of drinking it.  I told him, I see you drinking out of that bottle late at night.  I think you are drinking when you are already drunk and having blackouts as a result.  It is hard for you to walk.  Why don't you put it in the kitchen where you have to work to get it? 

That has had mixed results.  Mainly, he parks himself in the kitchen and drinks, gets sloshed, then staggers back to his bedroom.  When he's "parked", he gets very cranky if I ask him to move.  As seen today.  He has also passed out, on more than one occasion, in the kitchen. 

Ron wanted to "surprise" me, so he made a trip to go to a BBQ place that serves breakfast. We had a pretty good time, although Ron kept talking about pork ribs, BBQ, and Jesus (in that order) to the driver, who was clearly a muslim, on the way home.  Awkward. 

When I told him (after we got home) he didn't care.  He made a very rude response. 

I took a short nap but some noise kept waking me up.  I think it might have been #6.  It sounded like the door opening and closing, "like" 20 times.  When I woke up her car was gone, so maybe.  I just found that odd. 

Ron had made a trip to Walmart.  Now, I would have gone out to eat and then gone straight to Walmart, but Ron was worried about digestive issues (which never came to pass).  He wanted to go home, and then leave again. 

I wanted to get it all over with and then get a long nap, but I didn't get that. 

Basically, Ron got what he wanted and I didn't. 

When I got up, Biscuit was sleeping with me.  I had a hard time getting up, he is such a sweet boy. 

I did my God Time.  I hadn't done it this morning because I had trouble sleeping last night. 

After that, we went to Walmart and got my medication.  They didn't have all of it.  They also made me talk to the pharmacist, who freaked when she saw what I was taking.  I told her I had been taking it all for 10 years and had a good understanding of the side effects, then began reciting them.  She let me go after that. 

Odd. 

I did some personal shopping, not much.  I just needed cat things, garbage bags, and drink mix.  I also got some yogurt. 

When we came home we had the drama with the water on the floor, which I cleaned up.  It really looks like drip pan water.  I'm not too worried about it. 

I have a million things to worry about if it comes to that. 

Ron was ugly but went to his room.  He was threatening to make me "pay him back" for my medication because I was "mean".  I just wanted to clean up the water so I could figure out the problem.  I also didn't want him slipping in it! 

Neither of us have what I would call "good" insurance. 

Ron is very worked up about the Brexit thing.  He seems to think humanity "has" to do A, and then God "can" do B.  I tell him, it doesn't work like that.  God's going to do His thing on His own timeline and what we do is pretty much irrelevant. 

He doesn't listen.

Ron, that is.