"He couldn't work today"

I spent most of last night with a horrible migraine.  It persisted into today.

I also got to hear Ron having a blackout last night.  He basically got into my stuff and threw it around, tried to put my reusable shopping bags in the litter box, put a bag of trash in the toilet, etc. 

When it came time for work, it was apparent he would not be able to go.  I called our driver to give me a ride (I cannot ride paratransit by myself).  In the meantime, I tried to get Ron ready, to no avail. 

At one point he was screaming at me to take the brakes off, as he sat on the toilet.  He was trying to ride the toilet all over the house, thinking it was his wheelchair.  I put his hand on the wheelchair and told him "This is your wheelchair" and he shouted at me. 

At least, I say, he didn't think the wheelchair was a toilet. 

His alarm went off.  I thought that might wake him up.  No, it didn't.  He kept yelling "Fomo minush" I finally figured out he was saying "Four more minutes". 

When the driver came, I sent her away.  There was no point.  Ron was still in the house, mostly naked, in blood covered underwear (I never did figure out the location of the wound), shouting incoherently.  Paratransit can ban you for "disruptive behavior" so I didn't even try. 

When Ron found out she had left (I didn't tell him I had sent it away, just that his time had expired), he shouted "NO NO NO" at me.  My head didn't like that much. 

I took some Excedrin.  I ate a protein bar.  Ew.  It was the nasty vanilla one.  This was not shaping up to be a good Monday. 

I gave Biscuit and Baby Girl their num-num.  They were happy to see it.  I gave Torbie some treats.  I guess normally Ron does but he was too drunk. 

Ron was just generally obnoxious yelling and falling, getting back in the wheelchair, yelling some more, trying to get dressed (too late for that), etc.  I kept wishing for the driver to hurry up before Ron got REALLY ugly. 

He finally showed.  I left. 

I got to work and started.  I did an inventory of sodas (normally Ron's job), we needed 5 cases of canned.  I wrote them down. 

I took the carts out of the stockroom and got to work on snacks. I needed plain lays, but not Ruffles.  I needed hot chips, etc.  I forgot to do cookies in Snack #3 but it was mostly OK. 

I got everything else, though.  I was pretty busy for a while there.  When people asked about Ron (not many), I said "He couldn't work today".  It's true, he couldn't.  I just didn't say why. 

Since everyone knows about his back they probably assumed it was back-related. 

Ron called, drunk, wondering where I was.  I told him I was at work.  He hung up. 

He called me a couple more times.  He was sobering up.  He asked me to get him some takeout. 

Then he sent me a text that he was going to "go get drunk".  I didn't hear anything after that, even when I called. 

I figured (accurately) he had dropped his phone on the floor again. 

He had asked me to take our driver out to lunch and get him some takeout.  I think he really has a script in his head that I will have an affair with this man.  He is practically throwing me at the man. 

I'll just say he's not my type.  I don't like beards on anyone but Ron. 

Anyway, as requested, I took him out to lunch.  The guy really scored.  Not only did Ron pay the guy to get him alcohol, the blackout earned him $50 (in driving fees) plus a free lunch with a pretty woman! 

He took me home, I was dreading it.  I find that so sad.  No one should dread going home, ever, but I did.  I didn't say this to the driver. 

Sure enough, when I came home Ron had wrecked the front room again and was busy throwing pens on the floor.  I found toothpicks (I didn't even know we had toothpicks) all over the kitchen floor.  He was mumbling and incoherent, about as bad as when I had left, but not as loud. 

I decided to take a nap.  He woke me up a couple times banging around (he wrecked the front room again).  His phone rang, I turned it off.  Torbie slept by my head, Biscuit by my feet. 

We had a good time.  I slept a couple of hours until Ron woke me up, shouting.  He had gotten lost and needed to find the bathroom. 

When he's really drunk he has no idea where he is in the house.  I have to direct him.  Or face consequences.  Messy ones. 

So, I coaxed him into his wheelchair and got him in the bathroom.  About that time my bowels decided to gripe, I think over the protein bar.  I think I am intolerant of whey protein now.  I had to find my anti-gas pills and chew a couple.  Boy, those are nasty. 

He said he would "let" me sleep, but he lied.  He did not.  He kept making noise, yelling and such.  I finally confronted him directly "You said you would let me sleep". 

I think it's really sad that I even need to ASK for this. 

He went on the attack and said I should have called him in the morning before the ride left.   I reminded him he thought the toilet was a wheelchair.  He laughed.  I realized this was pointless and he was deflecting onto me.

It's HIS fault he was too drunk too work.  He's damned lucky I went in to cover.  Yes, by "covering" I "enabled" him but we cannot afford to lose the business. 

Ron is becoming less and less functional of an alcoholic.  I keep hoping something will wake him up, but my Dad says Ron needs to hit "rock bottom" before that will happen. 

I hate to see what that will entail. 

Ron's asleep now.  I'm going to try to get some sleep, too, while I can.  I don't know if he's going to have another blackout tonight or what.