Saturday, March 4, 2017

"I'll keep paying the bills"

I learned to swear in Swahili tonight.  I won't say who taught me but he was a nice guy.  Oddly enough, I can curse in several languages.  I'd like to see myself as a sweet little flower who would never use bad language, but sometimes it's necessary. 

I didn't sleep well last night.  #19 got rowdy last night, playing loud music, turning it up very loud, then turning it down.  They did that for about half an hour, an hour after I'd gone to bed.  They turned it up again and left it up. 

That's when I called the police.  Unlike the last place we lived, the police will come out for a noise complaint, and, even better, come quickly. 

Ron woke up and began swearing (not in Swahili), and called the police before I could stop him.  They told him the officer was already there, which baffled Ron until I told him I had called in a complaint about 10 minutes ago. 

What is that?  I got felony mugged at the corner and it took them half an hour to arrive, but it only takes 10 minutes for a noise complaint?  Maybe I should have told 911 I had a noisy neighbor, instead. 

Anyway, the police "worked" and they turned it way down.  If someone can hear you two blocks away, in their bedroom, with a noisemaker on, it's too loud. 

I fell asleep.  Later on they turned it up again but not as loud as before.  I was able to go back to sleep but that made 2 times I was woken up. 

See, this is why I'd be a lousy mother.  I jealously guard my sleep.  I get very bitter if anyone wakes me up.  And that's all babies and children do, wake you up repeatedly, all night, every night.  No thanks. 

I slept in a little and will do my God Time later.  I took my shower and got dressed.  I went out back, because I had seen a soccer ball.  As it turns out, I had six soccer balls in my backyard.  I returned them all. 

I got Ron ready, and we went out when the "callout" computer called Ron to notify him his ride was 10 minutes away.  That, by the way, was Ron's idea. 

Nothing.  Ron called.  The driver was 45 minutes away.  What happened to the callout?  Oh, forget that, Ron's assigned driver was 45 minutes away.  Ron told them this was work related, and he was meeting someone.  Sorry. 

Later on we figured the original driver probably picked someone up at Walmart or a grocery store, someone who had so much crap they filled up the two seats allotted to us.  Just a theory. 

However, in America, seniors and the disabled get their government checks between the first, and the third, of the month.  The first week of the month is frenzied shopping mayhem.  People also get their foodstamps credits at the first of the month, I think. 

So, everyone goes nuts the first week or two, buy, buy, buy, a capitalistic orgy of spending.  Then they run out of money.  That's when I like to shop, it is much quieter and calmer at the store, and you don't have another client on your vehicle hogging up the entire backseat with their groceries. 

In Houston, by the way, they call it "making groceries".  "Let's make groceries".  Interesting.  I haven't picked up that colloquialism yet. 

So, we waited, out in front of our house, at 7 AM, for 45 minutes.  Ron was furious by the time the driver arrived. 

He was OK at first until I told him I didn't see our dropoff on the computer.  Ron had to call someone who told the driver to "re-log-in".  He tried, it didn't work.  I said something and Ron blew up, shouting at me to "Shut the F- up!" and hitting me on the shoulder, twice. 

Later on, when we got to the warehouse, he apologized to the driver for losing his temper.  Not a word to me all day about that.  I know some of it is the head injury but if he can recognize he treated the driver badly, he can certainly realize he treated me badly as well. 

I had to forgive him (I didn't tell him, because he still felt he had done nothing wrong), but I wasn't happy about it. 

I'm the only person in his life who is still helping him.  I have been there through horrible poverty, when we lived off a bag of chicken leg quarters and a sack of potatoes for our dinner every night.  I have been there when he's sick.  I have been there when he was throwing his own poop. 

I think he would appreciate and respect that. 

He doesn't. 

He always begs for samples when we walk in the door.  I got him a mini cookie.  He really liked it and asked me to buy him a box.  I told him OK. 

I'm sure not going to eat them, they have chocolate. 

I bought all the stuff we needed and checked out in about half an hour.  We waited for a while on the driver.  Ron had called him and rescheduled. 

The driver finally came and we got everything loaded.  We went to work. 

Jack (the driver) helped us unload once I got the carts.  Sales were pretty slow so I stocked what I could.  I helped Ron put the water and juice in the fridge.  I helped him get sodas.  I helped him stock the bottled vendor. 

Finally, time to go. 

It was cold and overcast (about 60F) when we left.  I was pretty uncomfortable in my short sleeved shirt. 

Our ride came, it was a nice guy.  I like him.  He's very ebullient.  That's not easy when you are fighting Houston traffic and transporting often-difficult people for 12 hours a day. 

We got home.  Both of #6's vehicles were home.  #2, for some unknown reason, was having a yardsale.  Why move thousands of miles, haul the crap with you - PAY to haul the crap, and then sell it for a quarter apiece in your new neighborhood?  At least no one was parking on my property. 

I ate a snack and took my pills. 

I went to bed.  I was exhausted, and really hoping for a quality nap.  I couldn't warm up, though, even after I put the wool blanket on the bed.  I finally turned on my mattress pad warmer and used that.  I had a pretty good nap after that. 

Alas, it was too short.  I got up again.  I had meant to do my God Time but reset my alarm to get another 30 minutes. 

I don't know what it is about sleeping.  Falling asleep is so hard, I toss and turn, trying to find a good spot.  Sleeping at wakeup time is incredibly easy, as easy as falling asleep is hard.  I don't think that's just me, though. 

Ron stepped in Biscuit's cat puke right before we left.  Ron was pretty totally disgusted and had to change his socks.  I had to clean the floor. 

We had the same driver who dropped us off.  He took us to the BBQ place we like.  My stomach was a little irritated (not a big enough snack, with the pills), so I opted out of getting the sausage and brisket I had originally planned.  I got the hamburger. 

Ron got 3 pork ribs, a side of baked beans, and a beer.  Then he took some Tylenol while we ate.  I have told him, countless times "Tylenol is not safe to take with alcohol" but he just says something like "Don't worry, I'll keep paying the bills". 

That's not what I want to hear. 

We had a good dinner and had another nice driver to go home.  He was very friendly.  He's only been in Houston for a couple of years.  We had a straight trip home. 

I got Ron settled, fed the cats, and checked my email.  Dad had sent an email about his heart "procedure" this week.  It went very well and he is on a good new medication. 

I texted my aunt and told her I see Doc on Wednesday.  She said she couldn't meet us.  Oh, well. 

I talked to Ron about doing the accounting report. 

Then I called my Dad.  We talked for a while.  They are doing well.  Mom has gone gluten-free and is feeling a lot better.  That's good. 

It gives me a good idea for a present, too. 

We hung up and I came over here to update you on my activities today.  Have a great weekend! 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I have learned so much about Houston I would never know if I did not read your blog. I am sad about Ron because I have the same struggle...and the struggling is at a rough point now ... but read everyday ,,,Spankadoo

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