#6 had a great time playing outside, and talking by my bedroom wall, until 8 PM. I got my revenge, though, when our ride came at 3:45 AM, Ron and I came down our rather noisy metal wheelchair ramp, opened the garage door, left, and closed the garage door.
If I can hear them, they can hear me. I did try to be quiet but I was exhausted.
Off to work at 3:45. We had another pickup in Acres Homes (a notorious ghetto). The guy had a nice dog outside in the yard, chained up, though. It was a very sweet looking black lab mix. I felt sorry for it.
We went to work and got the water (we had bought 2 cases of water and brought them to work today) unloaded. I left Ron with the water and then went inside for a cart. I brought the cart out, loaded it, and got Ron inside.
People at work are very nice, nicer than the general population, about opening the door for us/him. It's lovely.
We got to work. We were running all day, especially when the repairman showed up. Ron forgot to tell me he was coming! He had some bad news, the coin mech backed up and fried the board, so we needed a new coin mech (it's the thing that holds the coins, and makes proper change). Ouch. That cost us $200.
We also got our Dr Pepper delivery, 55 cases (one had burst open, so he subtracted it). He's a very nice man. I helped him as much as he'd let me (not much) and gave him my cell phone in case he ever needs to contact me. If Ron is in the stockroom or at our fridge, the phone won't ring, so it's a possibility.
We got all that done, the repairman made himself a mocha using change, which was accepted by the new mech, and we left.
We came home and I went straight to bed. I was exhausted. When I did sleep last night, it wasn't the quality I had hoped to obtain.
I didn't sleep well this morning, either. I was upset at Ron, somewhat. Not because he started drinking the minute we got home, but just his general attitude today.
He kept condescending and acting as though I were really stupid, and he was "humoring" me and saying things like "Oh, you poor thing, you can't help it" in a biting tone of voice. I have learned not to object, it just leads to verbal abuse, but I wanted to ask him who he thought he was to talk about me like that. He just HAS to look down on me.
I'll tell you something. Everyone thinks Ron's drinking relates to his accident. It doesn't. He would have a binge drinking blowout, a blackout, sober for months, and then do it again.
It's when I got my diagnosis and medication, and started getting better. I think he was very threatened by that and that's when the binge drinking began, almost to the day of my diagnosis. Suddenly he couldn't condemn me for being overly emotional or "losing it again". Nope. I was fine, and getting better every day.
It took me years to get to what I would call a medication happy place, but I was on an upward curve and that really threatened him. That's when the drinking escalated.
I've had a lot of time to think about it.
Ron needs someone to look down on. If I'm doing better than him, he loses that, so he's always fault finding and criticizing.
Anyway, I tried to sleep, but didn't, not very well. I think Mrs. #6 went out back and beat a rug, that's the only thing I can figure based on the noise I heard. It sounded as though someone were being beaten to death. Needless to say, it woke me up. Grr.
I finally got up and we went out for fast food. We had a rather long ride going there but it was a driver we like. We got stuck at the restaurant for an hour or so and then we came home. It was a straight ride.
Ron and I had talked, nicely, during dinner. That's the nice thing about eating out fast food, he can't drink. We talked so much about work I told him he should deduct it on his taxes! We also talked about the cats.
I told him Baby Girl had tapeworms (great dinnertime talk, but I kept my voice down). I asked if he would help me hold her down so I could pill her. He agreed.
When we got home, I focused on getting the pill while Ron "Held her down". In Ron's case, that meant pressing down on her back and leaving her legs free. She got a paw loose and scratched me pretty good on the side of the hand. It bled a lot. I asked Ron to please hold her legs and he said no, he wanted to stop.
Then he spent half an hour apologizing to the cat. I wish he apologized to me that way. He said he was glad she had scratched me, I had "raped" her, etc.
I guess we are taking her to the vet for her treatment.
Then I did my God Time.
He took a Benadryl for his allergies and then began drinking. He said he might yell at me because I had tried to "rape" his cat.
I didn't argue. It is pointless to argue with Ron. As far as he is concerned I might as well have put her in a pillowcase and beat her.
Baby Girl is fine, running around the house, meowing, eating treats. She let me pet her. I think she was laughing at me because she won the Battle Of the Pill. I washed my hand a couple times, and used some peroxide. I should be fine.
Then Ron called Chuck. You will love this. Ron has 2 assignments:
1. Go to the local "scantily clad waitress" restaurant and have Chuck "be the designated pervert, and tell {Ron} all about the women there."
2. Buy Ron another case of vodka, getting reimbursed for time, travel, and merchandise.
It's a good thing I'm taking Depakote or I'd get a horrible headache. I just have to let Ron be Ron and worry about letting God correct him.
Tomorrow we do a supply run with "Jack", the guy who doesn't have any health problems.
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