No, we're not going to the bar

Well, it was an interesting day. 

I didn't sleep well last night but the gum pain was a lot better.  I credit the Aleve. 

It's like my gums know they're going to be scraped (well, the teeth are), and they're happy.  They just made a ruckus so I would make the appointment. 

I got up, got dressed, did my usual morning routine.  I did do my God Time later. 

We went to Sam's Club first to get some drinks for work.  No problem.  As I sat there waiting for our pickup (it only takes 5 minutes to shop, but paratransit makes you stay an hour or longer), Ron and I started talking about the day, we would do this, we would do that. 

Ron set up an appointment to go to the pupuseria.  I am looking forward to it, I love good ethnic food and Houston is the place for delicious foods from any culture.  I love my town. 

Anyway, Ron mentioned it was next to a bar.  I was quiet.  He asked me to take him to the bar.  My immediate reaction was what you'd expect, but I didn't want to lash out, Ron would just turn that against me.  So I thought on it for a minute, prayed on it, actually considered taking him for longer than I care to admit, grew a spine, said hell no inside, and calmly said "I don't feel comfortable taking you to a bar, Ron.  If you want to go to the bar you can have Chuck (he's the guy who buys Ron his liquor) take you, OK?" 

Ron agreed. 

We went to work.  Things were pretty quiet but I did find something odd, my carts were disarranged.  I place them in a very specific order, you can't take one out of place without messing them all up.  They have to fit in a tiny corner of our stockroom.  As near as I can figure, the other vendor's guy (who has borrowed the cart on occasion, with my permission) moved my other carts so he could borrow the folding handtruck (like the one the UPS guy uses), then he couldn't figure out how to put it back.  I hope that is the case.  Otherwise someone has a key to our stockroom. 

Of course I can't mention this to the other vendor because he will just attribute this to my mental illness.  Sometimes, and only with him, I really regret sharing. 

So I had to decide how I would handle this.  I have to address it, because if the other vendor comes in and my carts are all messed up he will blame me for it.  I'm not getting eaten because someone else wants to borrow a cart. 

I finally decided I will talk to the other vendors guy and tell him "By the way, if you ever want to borrow the handcart, this is how it goes back." and show him.  That way I am not "accusing" him of anything and the stockroom will remain tidy. 

Politics!  I hate them! 

Other than that, work was pretty uneventful.  I stocked pastry and helped Ron with the bottled vendor.  I put the "fresh" drinks from Sam's into the fridge. 

Ron needed help sorting and counting some change, so he could make a deposit at the bank.  He paid me yesterday so I was fine, this would be money for the business, and him.  I helped him do that. 

We had a good ride to the bank, and I haven't seen the teller who shorted Ron $100 on that other transaction.  I'm starting to think maybe they fired her.  As we did yesterday, we had a really nice and professional teller I like. 

Ron got his money, and the deposit, done. 

We called Lou the Cab Driver.  He was busy.  Ron called Jose.  Jose was downtown.  Ron called Yellow, they were very confused taking his request and sent the driver about 10 miles out of the way to pick us up.  Not cool. 

The cab company has an app and the driver really encouraged me to get it.  So I did, when we got home. 

But first, what the heck has happened to my house? 

A couple weeks ago we got a nasty letter from the HOA saying our tree had to be at least 9 feet above the sidewalk.  It was hanging down and offending them. 

Then Ron had the root canal, so much for paying an arborist to come and trim it.  However, I forgot I serve a mighty God. 

I came home today and the tree was perfectly pruned, the bushes that #2 hates for "encroaching" on them were trimmed back to the trunks, and the lawn was mowed and edged.  Our yard guys came by. 

God put it in their heads, what we needed.  They do all of this volunteer.  Sometimes they will take money but very seldom.  They wouldn't take any money today but Ron dropped some on the ground and told them he wasn't picking it up, they'd better get it before it blew away. 

I did find that I am a little bit of a control freak, more than I would have guessed.  They moved our garbage can.  I was shocked how much that upset me.  Then they used the hose!  It's the end!  I was really embarrassed at myself.   Here these nice people just did probably $700 worth of yard work and I'm being an ungrateful little whiner. 

Thank God they did not know any of this, but it's really embarrassing.  Which is why I figured I should share it.  I like to drag all the ugly things out and dissect them here, it helps me. 

Ron called Chuck, chatted a while, and "ordered" 3 boxes of wine.  He wants to stick to "lighter" stuff because he believes it isn't as "bad".  About the only good thing I can say about that is that red wine (which he drinks) has polyphenols that help reduce heart attack and stroke risk. 

But I'd really rather he not drink at all. 

Slow slide to hell

20-some years ago, I read a book "Contact, the first 4 minutes" that had some very good advice.  Basically, it said, don't "jump" people with bad news.  Give it at least 4 minutes after you start interacting, before you bring up negative issues. 

I took that to heart today.  I waited until Ron was getting ready, and told him he needed to change his pants.  "Why"?  I told him he had a blackout and threw protein powder all over himself, the counter, and the floor.  He didn't believe me, until he saw it. 

I told him he would be cleaning it up; and he would buy me a new jar of powder.  He agreed. 

I know Al-anon says "Don't get upset when they have a blackout; don't tell them what they did" but I call BS.  How is he ever going to get motivated to change unless he knows the irrationality of his blackouts?    He needs to know he is on a slow slide to hell. 

Of course, when a lot of people hear about my marriage, they want me to leave him.  Yes, that would be the "easy" thing; but that's not who I am. 

I have seldom done the easy thing.  I quit an "easy" office job to go work 16 hour days for Ron in his small business, I have continued to awaken at ungodly hours of 2-4 AM most days to help him to run the business.  I took home a blind man, with a broken leg, head injury, stroke, catheter, and sternal precautions because I couldn't see throwing him out because he was "broken".   I have seldom regretted either choice; and those are just 2 examples. 

I like to climb over obstacles.  I don't see myself as a quitter.  If I had been, I'd have killed myself years before my diagnosis.  I came very close to killing myself back in 2006.  When I tried to talk about it people didn't believe me.  That's one reason I started the blog, which is about 10 years old now.  I wanted people to know they're not alone.  At worst, I wanted people to see their lives could be worse!  [grin]

So, all that "settled", we went to work.  Work was pretty uneventful but things needed stocking.  I had enough time to do that.  I ate one of our egg salad sandwiches when I caught a minute to myself, and managed to do all the stocking. 

I got most of it done before we left.  I helped Ron a little but didn't go out of my way to make his life easier.  I guess you could say I normally go out of my way to make his life easier, in general, and especially at work.  Not today.  I just wasn't feeling it. 

I was tired and my gums hurt from the gingivitis.  I did have Ron call the dentist and schedule an appointment for me, next week, to get scraped.  That will not be fun; when they take that horrible tool and scrape off the plaque off your gumline.  I always bleed, and it hurts, and I hate it, which is why I haven't had it done in years, but it needs to be done so I will. 

Pain is a good motivator.  That would be a good blog title. 

We came home.  Ron said he would clean the kitchen so I took a nap.  I was exhausted.  Biscuit joined me and was very cute in the bed.  He is such a sweet boy, it's nearly impossible for me to believe someone just dumped him and left him to die in the woods. 

Yes, he found me, but odds were not high that he would find a loving person to adopt him.  Not in the woods, near where I have discovered, coyotes hang out.  They should have taken him to a rescue or a shelter, but I guess they figured he had better odds in the woods.  He was a house pet.  He had no idea how to forage; when I got him he was starving and underweight. 

I am proud to say I fattened him up pretty quickly, though, and the last time I had him weighed he was 14 pounds.  He's a good boy.  I am so glad I kept him. 

My gums started hurting again so I took an Aleve.  I need to lay off the aspirin before I get scraped or my mouth will look like a blood soaked horror movie. 

When I got up, I could tell Ron had spent a lot of time working on the kitchen, but it still needed to be mopped. 

Ron had made a trip to Burger King so we went.  I had the tiniest hamburger I have ever eaten in my life.  It was smaller than the "Happy Star" we used to sell at Carl's Junior and that was a small burger.  I ate some of Ron's chicken nuggets to supplement my meager meal. 

We came home and I checked my online stuff, whined about my gums on Facebook (got a million home remedies for gum trouble, too), and checked a message board where I sought advice for The Ron Problem.  A lot of them told me to leave him. 

I have a lot of reasons for staying.  Some I can't share. 

Treat Man has a blackout

Why am I posting at 4:42 AM? 

Ron had a blackout.  I heard a loud crash in the kitchen, didn't think anything of it.  Later on Ron started screaming at me to tell him what "it" was. 

He was trying to climb into the refrigerator, he apparently thought the door to the fridge was the door to his room, and couldn't figure out how he could make it work.  He did that twice. 

That's when I saw the mess.  He took the lids off 2 jars of protein powder and spread them all over the counter and floor.  Not only that, he put his leftover rib bones into the canisters, effectively ruining the powders. 

I wasn't happy.  He will be buying me new powders. 

Then I saw the laceration on his head; he apparently hit his head on the counter.  It wasn't too bad as these things go so I didn't bother him with it. 

Needless to say (the powder was spread all over him, as well) he will require a complete change of clothing when he wakes up. 

Once I freed him from the evil clutches of the fridge, I shoved his wheelchair into the bedroom.  He kept screaming at me to shut the door, so I did. 

He was quiet all night, as far as I know.  The cats, however, were not.  They wanted to get in to Treat Man. 

We have a general policy in the house that Ron gives the treats.  That way he gets to interact with the cats on a level he can.  I will occasionally give a "healthy" treat to Biscuit or Baby Girl, they like the healthy treats, but Torbie won't touch them. 

So I had Torbie and Baby Girl crying and scratching at his door all night.  It made it hard to sleep.  I had nightmares about his blackout and then I woke up with severe gum pain.  I am having a gingivitis attack on one of my molars and it hurts so bad.  The aspirin takes off most of the edge but it took a while for it to kick in; when it did I had to get up. 

What a day already. 

More drama than I wanted

Ron's being a jerk tonight.  Verbal abuse, tirades, threatening to force me to move out (good luck with that, in Texas we are a community property state). 

It was really blood-boiling.  The final insult, to me, was when he asked me what a normal relationship looked like.  I told him

[He's threatening to get online and "find a woman who really loves me"]

Anyway, I told him it's more what it wasn't.  Going a whole day without him getting offended at something I didn't even say.  Going a whole day without being verbally abused for something I didn't say, or because he's angry I'm depressed. 

He said "You have no idea what a normal relationship looks like". 

"Exactly" I replied. 

When he gets angry at me, it's anything goes. 

Anyway, then he says well maybe I'm defective and that's why I can't give him what he wants.  A marriage, I say this to you, my reader, and not to him: a marriage is not about getting your spouse to give you what you want.  It's about giving to your spouse unconditionally.  If you both do that, you will have a good marriage. 

If you are married to an alcoholic narcissist, though, you have to set boundaries, or he would eat me alive. 

How did all of this start?  Well, it started when Ron asked me to watch a cowboy movie.  I am not into Westerns.  I hate westerns.  I appreciate the role cowboys play in society but I have no desire to watch a cowboy movie.  That would be like taking Ron to go see Alien. 

I told him, no, I'm not interested.  Why?  I told him I was depressed and didn't want to see a comedy.  He kept bugging me.  I finally told him, that, based on his description of "this one scene, that's so funny" I didn't want to see it.  That's when he went off. 

Later on I asked him if I lived in America, and was "allowed" to say I didn't want to watch a movie.  I had to press him on it but he eventually agreed I had the right to say no. 

Our day started out OK. I got up, did my shower and God Time, got dressed, and we went out for burgers.  After we ate our burgers we went to the pet store.  I saw an adorable rescue kitten being carried in a purse.  She (?) was a precious little gray tabby.  I wanted to pet her so bad.  Her eyes were still blue but she was pretty big, considering, so I am guessing she was about a month old. 

We came home.  I took a nap.  Things were pretty quiet today, but last night #6 had a party.  I think he is slowly being assimilated into American culture.  He bought a BBQ grill, he had a BBQ/party for Mexican Mother's day, and then he had another party last night for Memorial day. 

It rained really hard very late last night.  I couldn't help but wish it had rained when they were kicking the soccer ball into my fence.  Then I went back to sleep. 

I am sitting in my computer chair, Biscuit is dancing around my feet and Torbie is laying by my toes.  They are both so very sweet. 

I tried to explain to Ron: I only have so much energy.  I have to spent it wisely.  If I am working, taking care of the cats, and running you to the dentist don't be surprised when I don't have energy to do the dishes.  He sees it as I don't know how to clean, or I don't want to. 

I hate cleaning; I admit that.  But it's an energy issue.  I have never met a person with depression, who worked, who had a perfect house.  It's impossible.  There's only so much energy to spend, and when it's gone, it's gone. 

And I can't get it back. 

Instead of pressuring me to do more and more, you think Ron might encourage me to cut back on some of the unnecessary activities, like going to the dentist.  Someone else could take him.  It could be anyone.  It doesn't have to be me.  The dentist and his assistant don't need me.  I just push the wheelchair. 

At least he's calmed down now.  I should be able to get some sleep now. 

Waxing

I was happy when Ron told me our pickup was coming at 7, instead of 6.  Yay!  Another hour to sleep!  I could get up at 5 instead of 4 AM. 

Unfortunately, I had a hard time falling asleep.  When I got up, I took a shower, ate my protein bar, etc.  I got ready for work. 

Since we were doing our "big truck" day, where we buy a week's worth of inventory in one trip, I wore one of my performance t-shirts.  It has a small snag in it where Torbie caught it one day when she was in my lap. 

When she dies, I'm going to look very silly crying over all that ruined clothing. 

Torbie's actually lying at my feet right now as I type.  It's very cute.  She did it one night when Ron was drunk and aggressive; then she figured out (under my desk) is a nice place and fun to hang out.  So, she does.  Biscuit prefers behind my chair, which means I have to watch out for him when I get up. 

So, we got to the store.  I started shopping, but I couldn't get my phone to work.  It said "Emergency Calls Only".  My payment went through yesterday, they sent me a text message, so I figured that wasn't it.  It was just being a [censored]. 

Why does this matter?  Ron sends me the list as a text.  His phone has a talker on it so he can text.  It came standard with the phone. 

Anyway, he suggested I reboot my phone and I did.  It worked.  Then I went to the shopping.  I got 22 cases of drinks for him and probably another 20 cases for "me". 

Then the wait for Jack.  He was running a little late but he made it.  It was pretty uneventful unloading the truck, but I had a problem when I pushed the carts inside. 

They were waxing the floor right by our fridge.  We have floors, some kind of solid plank.  They require regular applications of smelly black wax.  When they are waxing, they rope off the area and no one's allowed. 

That was a problem for a couple of reasons.  They were fixing the front men's room; and the second men's room was inaccessible due to the wax. 

And Ron had to use the toilet.  I had to push him all the way across the plant.  To illustrate the size of the place, if you walk around the perimeter, it is a mile.  It is a mile around.  I went crossways. 

And a lady was getting ready to clean the men's room.  I begged her to let Ron use it, she did.  The floor wasn't drying in the lady's room so she let me use the men's room, too.  It smelled pissy.  I was glad she was about to clean it. 

Then I pushed Ron partway around the perimeter so I could catch the custodians who were waxing.  We passed the man who ran over Ron, who greeted us joyfully.  I had to laugh.  My life is just so weird.   Ron laughed, too. 

I will say, I thought he had weekends off, but I guess not. 

We went back around, passed the battery room, lots of automated equipment, and finally over to the wax.  I hailed him as "Hey, Sweetie!" and we talked. 

He agreed I could bring my cart into the area and load the fridge.  I took Ron back to our area and put him to work.  I loaded the fridge and got out a cold case of water for Ron.  I told the guys I was done and went back to Ron. 

All this drama had taken a lot of time away from stocking, so I did the bare minimum and we left.  We had to wait a little while on our ride home, the driver was very new, and very careful. 

I've got nothing against someone being careful but it made him slow.  Hopefully he will speed up a little as he gets the hang of things. 

We got home and I took a nap.  I had a couple-hour window.  I had a pretty good nap. 

I woke up and we went to the BBQ place.  We had a nice driver from Sudan.  We got there pretty fast, Ron paid for the toll. 

We had a good meal (I had the half-pound hamburger with a side of bacon, Ron had the rib dinner).  We were there over an hour but we had a good time.  He drank a beer, of course, which I didn't like. 

I wish we could go out to eat without him reaching for the alcohol.   And he wishes I was 150 pounds. 

We had the same driver to come home.  We had a nice straight trip. 

I don't like to talk about nice things I (we) do, but it is unavoidable tonight.  Ron bought Jack a rack of ribs at the BBQ place, called Jack, and told him to come over and pick them up. 

I'm fine with that, but it means I have to keep wearing my bra!  Normally I would be OUT of this thing the minute I walked in the door, but I don't want to give the poor man an eyeful. 

I plan to give him another half hour before I go to bed; Jack did say he might have to pick them up tomorrow.  Worst case he won't be able to pick them up, for whatever reason, and Ron will "have" to eat them. 

I don't think he'd mind. 

Trapped by the gate

I sat in my seat, on the paratransit van, at 4:30 in the morning, staring at the broken gate at the apartment.  It wouldn't let us out. 

I had had a bad night's sleep.  The #6 kids wanted to play soccer in 90 degree weather and did so, kicking it off the side of my house at one point.  I finally got to sleep about an hour later, but I didn't sleep well. 

I kept waking up, and when I got up at 1:30 I just stayed up, I laid in bed with Biscuit for about 20 minutes and then I got up and brushed my teeth.  After that, I fed him. 

Baby Girl always gets first claim to the food bowl.  That's just how the hierarchy has worked out in my house.  Biscuit is at the bottom of the food chain, Torbie at the top, Baby Girl in the middle. 

I took my shower and did most of my God time, then I got dressed and ready.  We were ready to leave when our ride showed up at 4. 

We weren't straight, though, we had to go to an apartment complex.  We had some trouble finding the client but did so, eventually.  We got her on board and headed for the exit gate.  And it wouldn't open. 

Most of the apartments (flats) in Houston follow a standard design.  They have an iron fence around the property, with mechanical gates to regulate entrance and exit.  They feel, to me, like prisons. 

It certainly did now!  The other client actually got off the vehicle and shoved at the gate, trying to get it to work.  No luck.  

Ron was playing some old soul music on his talking book machine.  I am really sick of old soul music, that's all I hear because that's all the drivers, and the other clients, want to hear.  As soon as they know he has it they demand it. 

Ron tried to say they were "racist" because they only listen to soul music and not other genres.  I have encouraged Ron to use the word "narrow-minded" instead.  Racist is such a loaded word these days. 

Anyway, I am pretty sick of Ron's music, he was playing it while I was trying to do my God Time this morning and I had to plug my ears.  If I had asked him to turn it down, and explained, he would have gone off on a tirade about how my faith is "wasted". 

Back to the gate, another car came up and actually bumped the gate, trying to get it to open.  It jerked back and forth but never opened. 

We went to the front gate but it is "entrance only" and all the other gates were locked.  We would have to wait for someone to attempt to come in, then bolt out the front gate. 

We waited about 10 minutes, Ron still playing his music, the other people singing along.  Eventually another car pulled up and stopped.  She got out and went through a side pedestrian gate, up the front.  She would have to walk up to the security stand and enter the gate code to get the gate to open. 

She did that and it did open, and the driver didn't move!  I asked her to please go while we had this chance.  She gave me some nonsense about "waiting so she could hold the gate" for the other car.  I asked if she could at least move up while it was open.  She did that, "held" the gate so the other car could get out, and we went to work. 

What a hassle!   Another reason I hate security gates. 

We got to work.  Snacks were pretty dead so I didn't need to stock.  Hopefully our Dr Pepper delivery would come soon; it did. 

They actually sent the other vendor's delivery on another truck.  Ours came 20 minutes later.  He was a nice guy and helped me put the order away. 

I was done.  I didn't have the inventory I needed for snacks and Ron had done most of the canned sodas.  He stocked them fuller than I have seen in years. 

I couldn't help but worry something awful would happen to us, and we wouldn't be back for a while.  Maybe that's why God had him stock them so full. 

Just the way my mind works. 

We finished up eventually and went home.  I took a nap. 

When I got up, I finished my God Time and watched a little TV.  Ron had made a trip for us to go get burgers. 

I'm a cheap date; if I eat steak and take my medication, I get sick.  So I have to take my medication with a hamburger, instead.  I got a hamburger.  Ron got one with peppers on it.  We enjoyed them. 

Then I pushed him over to the pet store and we looked at the cats.  The bottle baby got adopted, but the white cat is still available for adoption.  These guys once adopted a one eyed, solid black cat, so they're good.  Your average person does not want a black cat, or a crippled one, and this one was both. 

I found some squeaky mice.  Biscuit loves his squeaky mouse but the battery is dying, it makes a horrible moaning sound instead of the squeak.  So I bought him some more.  It had catnip and a nice squeak to it. 

They are the kind where you pull a plastic tab to activate it; one had been activated so Ron and I played with it, then bought one that still had the tag.  Why buy a half dead squeaky mouse?  We didn't pull the tab until we had paid for it. 

We went back to our pickup location and waited a while.  Our ride was late but not overly so. 

We had a straight trip home, it was unremarkable except the driver couldn't let me sit in the front seat, a "slow" person had trouble with their bottle of water and spilled it all over the seat. 

I'm one to talk, but they really need to have a no-eating-or-drinking policy on the vehicles.  I wish they could enforce that. 

We got home OK and went inside.  There is NOTHING good on TV tonight.  I will look, though.  I will have to go to bed early because I have to get up early tomorrow. 

I'm so glad I already shaved my legs. 

Sad

Last night we went out for seafood.  I had an appetizer, main course, and dessert.  I figured I earned it. 

However, all that grease didn't digest very well.  I had trouble with indigestion and had to get a couple swigs of Pepto.  I had a little trouble sleeping. 

I woke up later (9) today and did my usual routine, shower, God Time, computer (the routine for my day off).  I took a nap for a couple of hours but was awakened by the #6 kids yelling in the yard when they got home from school.  It is really hot out, I had to wonder why they were out there instead of their air-conditioned playroom. 

Ron has been drinking all day, back to his usual levels.  He is belligerent, abusive, and angry.  It's just ugly. 

I have to go to bed early, mostly due to the fact I have to get up early too.  But I am also going to bed early because I want to avoid him. 

I find that sad. 

Root canal days

Sorry I didn't post yesterday, it was a long day.  I slept in until 8, got up, showered, did my God Time, got dressed and ate.  Then we went to the dentist.  We waited in the waiting room for about an hour.  They took Ron back (he likes to have me with him) and worked on him for another hour and a half.  I really hate going to the dentist, even if I'm not the patient. 

We went to Walmart and got a few things, then went home.  I took a "rough" nap, I had a hard time sleeping, then got up and went to work with Ron. 

We stocked for a couple of hours and paid a refund.  Someone came up to us, about 20 minutes before our pickup, and told us they saw our paratransit van in the parking lot.  So we had a good ride home, but it was late.  I went pretty much straight to bed. 

This morning, I got up about 8 - in a perfect world I would do this every day.  Same routine, got ready, took Ron to the dentist.  This time he was in some pain and whatever they did to him caused him some more pain.  That was pretty miserable to watch. 

I even told myself: this is your payback for all the names he's called you - and I still felt like crap.  I was glad when they finished. 

We left and went to Walmart again, this time, to fill his prescription for pain pills.  We turned it in and waited for a while. 

Ron had moved his tongue at the wrong time, and the drill had cut it, so I got Ron some "Kank-aid" - it forms a bandage over raw spots in the mouth, and has a painkilling ingredient.  I also got him some generic (don't tell him) Oragel.  It has antibacterial ingredients in addition to the maximum dose of painkiller.  I figured he would be fine, between those and his oral medication.  I told him where I put it so he could use it if I were asleep. 

Ron can't drink while taking the oral drug.  We checked out (I bought a diet soda) and left.  Ron called a cab to take us home.  We don't take paratransit because it is impossible to say when the dentist will be finished.  I would rather just add an extra $10 onto the dentist payment and take a cab home. 

I encouraged Ron (vigorously) to take a pain pill before the anesthetic wore off.  He did.  He is feeling OK right now so I feel good about that. 

I don't like to see him suffer, even when he is hateful.  It's just not who I am. 

The girl cats have been hanging out a lot on Ron, sometimes literally on him.  They are pretty cute, and Ron enjoys the company. 

I hope they can teach Ron he doesn't have to get drunk to feel good. 

We are going out, shortly, to dinner.  Seafood ought to be pretty soft for him so he can get some protein. 

I plan to take tomorrow off and do nothing except maybe some housework.  I have tufts of cat hair all over my tile floor and I need to sweep, if nothing else. 

It's all red

I had a hard time getting up this morning but I did it.  I took my shower, ate my protein bar, and took some aspirin.  I had a headache. 

Not to freak out the guys, but I have noticed a hormonal component to my headaches.  Before I ovulate, I can eat anything.  Afterward, I am far more prone to headaches.  The headaches reach a crescendo right before I start my period and then it's back to eating anything I want.  Right now, that means I have about a 10 day window. 

I already ovulated so - and I find it so funny, my body is all "Let's make a BABY!" every month, and I'm, like, "No!" [grin].  I have to laugh at my biology.  This has happened hundreds of times, you think my body would get the point. 

Anyway, I can expect a lot more headaches. 

We went to work.  We rode with a man in a wheelchair who reeked of cigarette smoke.  It was awful, especially with my headache.  I reminded myself that smoking was probably the man's only pleasure. He was dressed all in red so he must live in "Bloods" territory.  Or maybe he was a former gang member who got shot. 

Living in the big city, you learn a lot about "colors".  Bright red = "Bloods" gang.  I find them pretty much everywhere I go to do evangelism.  Bright cobalt blue = "Crips" I don't see them much at all, at least in my circles, it is all red. 

I don't buy Ron any cobalt or bright red t-shirts.  If he comes on a Bible Handout with me, I don't want him getting shot.  I don't have any cobalt or bright red in my wardrobe, either.  I mainly have a lot of black t-shirts and pants.  I guess because I am so prone to depression. 

Too bad I don't wear makeup, or I could go for the "emo" look with white powdery cake foundation and lots of black eyeliner.  I never dressed like that in highschool. 

When I was manic, I wore a lot of makeup, badly applied.  When I was depressed I was lucky to wash my hair. 

We went to work.  It was pretty quiet.  Snacks didn't need anything but the pastry, which I did.  Ron was in a foul, negative, mood, making nasty comments at God.  He was toxic.  It didn't help when he bumped into the open door on the snack machine and punctured a can of soda, which began spraying into the coin mech.  I frantically tried to clean it while Ron yelled at me to get rid of the dripping can.  Let it drip, I thought, I'm trying to save the coin mech.  I hope I did.  I was too scared to test it. 

The rest of the work day was pretty uneventful.  We went home. 

I figured out how to download scripture booklets from World Missionary Press, and grabbed a couple.  Here's the link: http://www.wmpress.org/read-booklet/

I took a nap and got up with yet another headache.  I took more aspirin.  Both my psychiatrist and pharmacist agree that it is better for me to take aspirin, so I do. 

We went to Walmart.  Ron was "Mr Negative".  He called me a couple times and seemed to cheer up.  He wanted Advil (I have to think that is better than the Tylenol), apple juice, Spaghettios with meatballs, and cat treats.  I got all of them. 

I made my deposit so I can pay my health insurance.  Ron called the dentist and arranged for step 2 of his root canal.  [sigh]  Last year we had a bunch of expensive home repairs that ate all our money.  This year it's his teeth. 

I got my stuff, not much, some diet Mountain Dew, some scented detergent paks (I plan to use them on Ron's clothes), etc.  I bought Biscuit and friends a case of Salmon Pate.  I bought myself some canned food for "dinners".  I also bought some yogurt.  Yogurt is a quick and easy meal, and if I eat the whole-fat greek style, I can take my medication.  I also bought another gallon of organic whole milk. 

I try to incorporate quality foods when I can. 

We came home.  Our driver used to be very difficult and demanding, but has made a massive improvement.  Now I like riding with him.  We had a safe ride home. 

I bought everything in and put it away, giving Ron his stuff. 

I watched a little TV and did some computer time.  I gathered up dirty clothes for the laundry.  Ron shouted at me because he hadn't cleaned the litter box (one of them).  Sigh.  It's been a long day. 

When I was a teenager with a diary, I used to write I was "ET" - emotionally tired.  It fits, today. 

Sunday afternoon

I had today off. 

I slept in until 7:30, got up, fed the cats, watched a little Law & Order, took a shower, did my God Time, watched a little more TV.  I decided to shave my legs, so I wouldn't have to worry about it tomorrow.  I hate things like shaving my legs at 2 or 4 in the morning, and we get up pretty early for work, most days. 

I took a nap.  I had a hard time dropping off but next week looks to be busy.  My back muscle is still bothering me but I am, I hope, getting better.  It's nothing worse than what I did to myself during my weightlifting days.  Oh, I used to have horrible muscle pain when I did deadlifts, not during, but after.  Then, my butt, abs, and thighs would scream at me.  But I wanted to tone them up so I welcomed it. 

Once I cleanout the garage, I need to at least get back to some powerlifting.  It builds the most muscle for the least amount of time. 

So, I had a nap, it was pretty good.  I got up at 3.  It was thundering, we are supposed to have severe weather tonight and tomorrow, so I decided to roll up the "outside" blinds.  We have exterior blinds, made out of some sort of plastic fabric, that roll down to keep the sun from heating up the house.  They have been pretty effective but they do blow a lot in the wind, one time it almost broke a window, so I always roll them up when we have a storm. 

I got dressed, went out, and did it.  Then I came back inside the house. 

Ron woke up and we talked about the cats for a while, and I fed them.  We talked about my nephew's graduation.  He is my stepsister's son.  I decided not to do my weekly phone call because I would interrupt the festivities. 

It is amusing to note I actually have a nephew nearly my age.  He is also bipolar.  He works in a creative field.  Then we have my niece, a little younger, but she has 2 kids.  She has a high-drama life much like my mother's and I have blocked her on Facebook.  One of her kids is a Facebook friend and a very sweet kid.  I wish her well. 

Then we have my sister's kids, all of them grown, two of them married, all of them off living their own lives.  The next tier, I guess, are the stepsiblings' kids.  They range from graduating college (!), to high school (2), and a young boy about 10 now.  I am not close to any of the kids. 

The way I figured it, I was a mess and kids need consistency.  It was easier just to not be in their lives.  They didn't miss me, they had plenty of other people. 

But who will take care of me when I'm OLD?  That's a lousy motive to interact with the younger generation. 

If my aunt dies before I do, her son, my cousin, will take care of my estate.  That is one thing I have considered: my blog. 

I value my blog and would want you to know what happened.  I have a feeling, if I die (before I am raptured), it will be in an accident and you would never know why I stopped posting.  I am considering putting my aunt on the blog.  There used to be a way to do that.  She would be able to post and moderate comments, before (although I would ask her to stay hands off until something happened), and after I died. 

Isn't that morbid?  But I am considering putting her on as a coauthor.  Just so she could keep you posted.  Let me know what you think, if you mark it private I won't post it.  I am just seeking opinions. 

I guess, with what I've been through, I'm always looking at the worst case scenario. 

I was very unhappy yesterday when Ron called the pharmacy and asked if he could drink while taking his antibiotic.  They said yes, as long as it was "moderate".  That, for Ron, has translated to four servings of wine today. 

He couldn't make it 10 days.  He barely made it 2.  How sad and disappointing.  He hasn't been ugly so I am enjoying that. 

Torbie is stretched out in bed next to him, begging for treats.  She just lies there all cute until he makes with the treats.  He always does.  She has not, as far as I can tell, lost a significant amount of weight on her diet.  Probably due to her treat consumption. 

Baby Girl has lost some weight, her belly doesn't hang as much as it used to.  When it comes to feeding time, Baby Girl is top cat.  She always gets first go at the fresh cat food.  Then Biscuit, then Torbie.  I can't tell if Biscuit has lost weight and I'm not about to put him on the scale.  We will just have to wait and see when I take them into the vet for their yearly physical/shots. 

That reminds me, I need to do their Advantage (topical flea medicine).  They haven't been itching but I don't want them to, either. 

Tomorrow I have to get up at 4, and it's already past 6:30.  I need to go to bed pretty soon. 

I hope you had a good weekend.   

One "plus"

I pulled a muscle in my back, sometime in the last couple days (a lattimus dorsi), it's been bothering me off and on. 

Since I am normally eating aspirin for my headaches anyway, I didn't worry too much about it.  I got up and went to work as usual today. 

Well, I just took my shower, I will do my God Time later.  I didn't sleep well last night, etc.  But I got up, fed the cats, and did what needed doing. 

We went to the warehouse and Ron wanted 20 cases of drinks (soda and water).  I put them on the cart and selected my choices, paid, and waited for Jack.  I helped Jack load the truck, although I have to admit the "helper" did more in that department, that's why I tip him. 

Jack talked politics on the way to work.  It was awkward because we are polar opposites on the political spectrum.  I just made safe comments when I could and nodded a lot. 

We got to work and I had to clear off the carts.  My back did NOT like that.  I had to pick things up and put them on a table.  I did that and went out. 

Jack and I loaded the carts, and I brought them in.  Oddly, that wasn't too bad. 

When I got in, Ron was having a tantrum,  He was angry that he had forgotten to put a case of Sprite in the fridge, after he used the cold one.  He blamed me for that, saying I should have double-checked him.  That's never been my job, Ron has been responsible for keeping the inventory in the fridge.  Today, he asked me to help, after he finished yelling at me, and I said I would do that.  And I will, provided I am given enough time. 

Ron was a selfish, narcissistic, brat during our entire time at work.  He was demanding, petulant, and abusive.  He was just ugly. 

I understand he needs help because he is crippled, but he has distorted that to mean our entire work life revolving around him.  I can do it all without him, I proved that when he had his back surgery.  I did it all, and I made more money to boot. 

It was exhausting.  I finally told him about my back when he asked me to take the (heavy) change buckets out and dump them into a receptacle so he could sort them.  He had another tantrum.  How dare I hurt myself and impair his ability to earn money!  He really had that attitude, it was horrible. 

I try to remind myself he has a head injury.  He was already a narcissist before the head injury, now he's one "plus".   He lacked a lot of empathy today.  It was all tearing me down and expecting better performance, as a result. 

And he knows better, they made him read The One Minute Manager in his training, and they specifically said don't tear down your employees, give them a compliment and then state your gripe, but keep it short.  Ron forgets that. 

I couldn't help but think of the two jobs I quit because the boss was verbally abusive and a drama queen.  Ron, I thought, was far worse yet I couldn't quit.  It gave me a taste for how some people at work probably feel. 

Eventually, we finished.  You can bet I checked the fridge to make sure Ron had all his drinks.  He forgot to lock it, too. 

We had a ride home.  It was pretty unmemorable except for a few things, we saw one of my cab driver buddies, the driver was doing a rap-a-long with the hip hop station, and I translated a very bad Spanish graffiti aloud, forgetting about the lady in the backseat.  I felt horrible about the last one.  I was just surprised to see the graffiti. 

We got home and I drank a glass of milk.  I figure the protein will help my back (it's not my spine, just a back muscle).  I took a short nap, but I had to use a blanket because Ron had the airconditioner on cold.  I don't see why he would waste money making us cold when it's 90 degrees out.  But he pays the bill so I didn't feel like debating it with him; I just got the blanket. 

Now we are going out to dinner.  After all I did today, I feel entitled.  I have my medication in my fannypack. 

I just need to decide whether to feed Biscuit now or later.  He bit me (not hard) when I was playing with his chub earlier.  His chub, you may wonder?  That little flab of fat that hangs down before a cat's back legs, when they are overweight.  He really wants his dinner but I don't want to reward "aggressive" behavior. 

Buying cat food at Starbucks

I went to bed very early and actually woke up before the alarm.  I was exhausted, of course, but I woke up. 

I watched some TV, ate a protein bar, took my meds, took a shower, etc.  I fed the cats. 

Our ride came and we went to the Starbucks.  Ron had a hard time explaining it to the dispatcher when he called about our late ride "I need to get some cat food".  "At Starbucks?" 

The Starbucks is in a strip mall, along with the pet store.  I walk over and get the cat food. 

We went to the Kolache factory first and I got some cream cheese Kolaches.  I thought they would be Ok with my medication.  As it turns out, I was wrong, and got very queasy later. 

Then we went to Starbucks.  Ron got an iced latte with lots of splenda.  I left him near the bathroom while I went to the store. 

I harvested 3 bags of cat food, as planned.  I also got some all-meat cat treats.  I looked at the adorable rescue cats. 

I have to make a plea to you, if you have a pet.  Will you do me a favor and find another home for your pet before you die?   I don't care if you are an 18 year old athlete or a 90 year old dementia patient; you need to do this.  Just talk to your friends and find someone who loves cats.  Ask if they will take Fluffy if something happens to you.  I see so many cats up for adoption whose owner died.  Please do this.  Your pet deserves to have a smooth transition. 

I have done this; my aunt, who is also my executrix, has agreed to find loving homes for my cats - NOT the shelter, if something happens to us.  I don't think Ron could take care of the cats on his own if something happened to me. 

So, I don't have to worry about them shivering under a table at the shelter, with screaming children pulling their tails. 

I saw a cat whose owner died, it looked like a sweet cat but it was older.  People don't like older cats, for some reason.  Me, I love older cats.  They are a lot more affectionate and mellow.  Torbie is my girl and she is 10+ years old. 

I saw my "boyfriend", a guy I think has fetal alcohol syndrome, and he asked me about Ron.  I told him Ron was fine and I left. 

Well, I paid first.  [snort]  They were happy to take my money.  I got a partial discount because I am a "member" there.  They send me coupons for canned cat food, Blue brand (I feed Blue Wilderness Grain Free dry) sometimes so they are tracking my purchases. 

I had a large tote bag, I put everything into it and walked back to Ron.  Our ride home came early so we were happy to see him. 

I put everything away when we got home, and got out the treats.  Baby Girl approached me, first.  I gave her some of the new treats.  She gobbled them up.  I offered some to Biscuit as he lay on the back of the couch, I put them in my hand and he ate them slowly.  He seemed to enjoy them.  Then I offered some to Torbie, she liked the smell but didn't like the taste, she let Baby Girl eat them.  So, I have a 2 out of 3 cat treat. 

At least someone likes them.  I hate it when I buy something and no one eats it. 

I took a nap.  I had strange dreams about my Dad's old car.  I got up and did my God Time. 

I watched a little more TV.  Not much on, though.  I guess everyone figures I'm going out on Friday Night.  Not me. 

Baby Girl got very excited when I walked by, started meowing her "begging for treats" meow.  She could probably eat that $6 bag of cat treats in one day, if I let her. 

Ron has been OK "dry".  He ordered some books, and a catalog, from the state library.  I suggested he read "Strangers" by Dean Koontz and he agreed.  He hasn't wanted to read that book for 25 years, until today.  He will enjoy it, it's a good book. 

Tomorrow we do Truck Day and then severe weather rolls in.  We aren't going out to eat tomorrow night. 

I guess I'll have a bowl of cereal or something. 

The second flavor

I woke up today and took my shower.  Biscuit was sleeping on the loveseat where I do my God Time.  I chuckled at it and told God He would have to fix it if He wanted me to hang out with him, today.  A minute later Biscuit got down on the floor, and stayed there.

I did my God Time.  It had been a few days.  Things have been crazy lately, and I've been off and on depressed.   We had a good time, me and God. 

Then I gathered up the clothes and ran a load.  I had enough for 2 loads; I did the second load later. 

I had a good cuddle with Torbie.  She was so cute I took a photo for my adoptive Mom and she loved it.  She (Torbie) is lying by my feet right now, being cute.  She's a very sweet cat. 

I am constantly baffled how anyone could give her up, but I'm glad they did.  I'm just sorry she had to spend a month at the shelter before I got her. 

Boy, I had a lot of paperwork to fill out to get her, too.  Worth it. 

Ron woke up and we went out to eat.  We went to a local seafood place. 

When we were in Galveston, we went to Landry's.  It is a very fancy seafood place.  The place we went today is far more simple. 

It has pretty much the same menu, though, but far lower prices.  I got the most expensive thing on the menu at $18.  Our total was still only $34, half what it was at Landry's. 

I got a plate with catfish, shrimp, scallops, hushpuppies, fries, and stuffed crab.  I felt it was a good deal.  It was breaded with a  cornmeal batter and was very, very, hot.  I finally left it alone for about 5 minutes before I did any eating, and even then I almost burned my tongue on the catfish.  Ron got an appetizer, shrimp wrapped in bacon.  They also have that at Landry's, but it's a lot cheaper here. 

He enjoyed eating that and then he got a shrimp basket, shrimp, hushpuppies, and fries.  He couldn't finish his meal. 

I ate everything but the coleslaw and enjoyed every bite.  I did not have any problems with my medication, I have figured out I need to eat my pills with a lot of protein and fat.  If I do that, I am fine (ie hamburger).  If I don't (grilled chicken salad), I will run into trouble.  I had no trouble. 

Ron had set it up so we took paratransit one way, and a cab the other way.  The waitress pointed out the cab when it came, and we left (we had already paid and given her, the tip). 

I was happy Ron did not drink, he took his pain medicine on the way home.  Ron had come up with an idea, since we had to go to work to do an inventory, maybe we could do it today. 

I had slept about 11 hours last night, so I figured I would be OK without a nap.  I said OK.  I put on my workboots, badge, and keys. 

Ron called Chuck, who came.  Apparently the A/C is out in his truck again.  Either that or he didn't run it, which I doubt.  I got pretty sweaty on the ride.  He put the window down so the wind was blowing my hair. 

I will have to check myself out in a mirror and see how I look; I used my new conditioner today.  I haven't used conditioner in years, but I thought it might help with the frizzing problem.  No one ran away from me when I got to work so I must have looked OK. 

I got to work and did the inventory.  Then I emptied the yuck bucket in the coffee machine.  After that, I fixed the bill jam in the food machine, Ron had gotten a call about it.  I fixed it all in about 5 minutes. 

The other machines looked fine so I didn't worry about them.  The other vendor gave me back my mag-liner (folding handcart), so I didn't have any concerns about that, either.  I was done. 

Then Ron asked me to verify how many cases of water.  He thought we had 4.  We had 3.  I told him.  Then I came out and we went home. 

Because I did that, I get tomorrow off.  Sounded like a pretty good trade-off to me. 

Ron and I discussed what we wanted to do tomorrow.  I told him I needed more cat food (I do).  So he made a trip to do that.  We can also go to Starbucks and a Kolache factory, they are close by.  That was outing enough for me, tomorrow. 

I will need to empty one of my reusable bags tonight, so I can put the cat food in it tomorrow.  I buy the 5 pound mylar bags, they have a zipper to close it and make it airtight.  The 15 pound bag is cheaper per pound, but it doesn't have the zipper, and I don't have a canister big enough for it.  So I will continue putting my 5 pound bag into the 2-gallon bucket with a lid. 

Ron found some cat food in his closet, it is a different brand, still good, the "second" flavor we were offering for the cats when we just had a bottomless food bowl for them.  I don't do that anymore but they did like the flavor.  I will have to see if they still do, or I can give it to Mike at work. 

Mike has 3 cats, all rescues.  He is not picky about what he feeds them and I have given him cat food before.

Or, I may just feed it to my guys.  It hasn't reached the sell-by date yet, after all. 

We'll see. 

Just another day at the office

I blog for a lot of reasons.  I write because I hope I can encourage others in difficult relationships.  I write because I want to encourage sufferers, family, and friends of those with Fetal Alcohol and/or Bipolar disorder.  I write to encourage people with depression.  I write to encourage people who love an alcoholic.  I write to encourage people who are living with verbal abuse.  Who have to worry about "getting cornered" when "Honey" is in a bad mood. 

I write for all of that.  I also write for myself.  I did not have a standard childhood and standard relationships.  I did not/was not taught or allowed to learn, proper boundaries.  I have had to figure that all out by myself. 

But sometimes things that seem so horrific to an outsider, are, to me, "Just another day at the office".  A good example is the other day, with Ron, at the bank. 

I thought it was pretty bad, but, all things considered, it wasn't that far outside the norm for Ron.  There's always that little worm of doubt.  "Am I overreacting?"  Ron would have said yes.  My readers said no.  I need to hear that. 

I have, in some ways, a very difficult life.  Things have changed for me, but it's still hard. 

I sit in my chair and chronicle Ron's slow slide into oblivion, one broken tooth, one blackout, one more case of vodka (thanks, Chuck), at a time.  I know how this will end if God doesn't rapture us soon. 

It ends with him dead, having killed himself.  It is sad, the man who gave me so many lectures about "Not pissing God off and wrecking the BMW he gave you", slowly erodes his own health and well-being, one sip of vodka at a time.   

I would hate to see his liver numbers. 

And the really sad thing, when Ron truly realizes what he has done, he will be so horrified.  But it'll be too late. 

No vodka for 10 days

Well, when Ron checked his bank account he found a $100 credit, so apparently they caught, and fixed, the problem.  Good. 

We needed the money. 

First, though, we had to get a 5:30 pickup for work this morning.  I did my shower, but not my God Time.  I was too tired.  Still am. 

Always, always, tired.  I think that's the thing I hate most about my medication. I get up from sleeping 12 hours and feel like I could sleep another 12.  At least the depression crawled off. 

We got to work and I did some stocking before our repairman arrived.  He showed up.  In my mind, he always wears a superhero cape.  He came in and disassembled the coin acceptance unit, found the dime, and reassembled it.  Then he filled it up, and filled the change bank as well.  He tested it with bills, and coins.  It worked.  Thank God.  I watched people use it after he left and it continued to work. 

We talked about the coffee machine.  We need to get some valves because the water at work is corrosive to the plastic, and degrades them.  Then they leak and my machine shuts down when the waste bucket fills up.  Apparently, we will need to buy a new set of valves every year or so, and they aren't cheap. 

We don't make any money on the coffee machine, let me tell you. 

We finished up and went to the dentist.  We arrived early.  Ron decided he didn't want to brush his teeth, so he didn't.  Poor dentist.  Poor dental assistant. 

I sat in my usual chair nearby as they gave Ron the bad news, another broken tooth.  They could pull it, or they could do a root canal.  It was a "chewing" tooth (molar) so I said I guess we will do the root canal. 

But their computer system was down and they couldn't give us a quote.  They had to use an employee's cell phone to call corporate and get a quote.  $355 for the root canal, not counting "build-up" or the crown.  I went ahead and paid it. 

Ron paid me back.  They went ahead and did it.  Generally, I try not to look when they are doing dental things but I was stuck in the same room because Ron likes having me there.  I generally only get uncomfortable when they are drilling.  They drilled out all his old fillings and got out some kind of wires.  They dipped the wires in some kind of stuff and then stuck them in his tooth.  It was interesting, in an "I'm glad this isn't happening to me" sort of way. 

They finished up and sent us off with a prescription for an antibiotic.  I took Ron to Walmart and we turned it in.  We looked around.  I decided to get some no-frizz shampoo and "serum".  I also got Ron some wet wipes for his hands (he likes them when we eat out) and a few other things. 

Then we sat and looked (I did) at the condom display.  I figured out, if you want to get laid at Walmart, the cheapest you can go is about $2.50 for 3 condoms.  Or you can buy a large package of 36 for about $15, so about 35 cents each.  Not bad. 

I decided, if you're going to be sexually active, and use condoms, you are a lot better off getting the big pack if you are "active".  If you are not "active", perhaps the 3 pack would be a better choice. 

I know a lot of married Christian women who use condoms.  There is some debate in Christian circles about birth control.  What is a proper method to prevent pregnancy?  There's always surgery.  That's what Ron did and it worked.  IUD's and the pill prevent the fertilized egg from implanting, so, some feel, you are basically "killing" the baby if you do that.  I don't have an opinion on the subject.  If Ron died, I would have sterilization surgery to make sure any man understood there would be no children.  So, we are left with barrier methods, condoms, and diaphraghms.  Oh, screw you, spell check.  It's close enough.  The last methods keep the egg and the sperm from meeting, so no fertilized egg.  It's easy to see why a lot of women prefer condoms in that case. 

Of course you have to get your husband on board.  Ron was not impressed with condoms when he was "playing". 

It was easier for him, he felt, to get sterilized. 

The prescription was ready.  We paid up.  It was $4 for a 10 day course, 3 pills a day. 

The doctor wanted to talk to us.  I pushed him over there and immediately asked if he could drink while taking it.  No, she said. 

Well, there's that.  Ron wasn't happy but he needs this to prevent blood poisoning.  He grumbled a lot as we left. 

We went to McDonald's.  He wanted chicken nuggets, and I wanted a chicken sandwich.  As it turns out, the sandwich wasn't the best idea: when I took my meds later I got pretty queasy.  We shared a diet soda and he commented how nice it was not to have the sensitivity anymore. 

I just hope he stops breaking his teeth.  He only has so many, he's got to run out sooner or later. 

"I should beat you" - or why do I always have bad Tuesdays?

It was a tough day.  I got up, got ready, took a shower, did all that, and off we went. 

We went to the warehouse to buy some Sprite, and Lipton canned tea.  Ron wanted to get a water, too, but I told him we wouldn't have room for it on paratransit. 

We had to wait an hour between getting dropped off, and getting picked up, from the warehouse.  I drank some diet caffeine free soda they had on their soda fountain (of course I paid for it), and we waited. 

We were going to work, said the plan, and then going to the bank.  After we went to the bank we would go home and then we'd go to Burger King, a few hours after that. 

Ah, plans. 

We went to work.  Things went well for an hour until a regular customer confronted me about "problems" with the bottled vendor.  I opened it up to find a horrific coin jam.  I got my tools.  There was one part on the top I could remove, when I did coins cascaded all over the floor.  I picked them up, thinking I should leave them so people could pay their own refunds.  I got the top part clear, apparently.  I had to work on the bottom part.  I took it out.  It had cylinders to hold stacks of coins.  I had to stick my fingers in the "good" holes and smack the unit against another vending machine, trying to dislodge the large, troublemaker, coin. 

Someone had put a dollar coin (a JFK) in the machine, and that caused all the trouble.  Upside down didn't work.  I set it down, and some of the coins fell through to the ground again. 

Again, I picked them up.  I was sweaty and annoyed.  And of course that's when people wanted to buy drinks off me, because the machine clearly wasn't working.  I helped them after I put half the unit into my box of Little Debbie Snack Cakes.  I didn't want change flying all over and it was the only intact box I had on hand.  I mash up all my used cardboard when I'm done, and put it in the recycle bin. 

Back to the unit: I got the picks.  I finally extracted the [censored] coin.  I mounted the mechanism.  I mounted the top part.  Why is the red light flashing?  I cleared the jam! 

There are two lights, red, and yellow.  You don't want either of them flashing. 

I went into tube fill mode and tried to fill the empty coin banks.  The coins either got stuck, or ran through to the coin return.  [bad word] [censored] [censored]  I was not happy. 

I'm still sweating and I can literally feel my hair frizzing with frustration.  I'm so aggravated I want to throw something. 

"Is it working?" 

I took a deep breath.  "No." 

"Oh, can I buy a bottle of water?"  I sold it to them. 

I told Ron he had to call the repairman.  He has to call him anyway because the coffee machine dumped the water tank again.  Ron asked me to "try" to fix the bottled vendor.  "It's our best seller". 

I worked on it some more, to no avail.  I made sure everything was mounted OK.  I cleaned the top part.  I got sweat all over my glasses working so I had to wash them.  I told Ron, no go, this was beyond my help. 

Something is going on beyond the coin jam, or something is jammed where I can't find it.  But I couldn't get it to work. 

Ron began texting the repairman. 

I closed the machine and left a note.  I discovered it isn't taking $1 bills, either.  The repairman texted Ron back, he would come tomorrow. 

We left and went to the bank. 

They recently went "bulletproof" at the bank and put the tellers in cages.  I can no longer stack the money up on the counter, and count it, when I give it to them.  I didn't think it was a big deal.  Ron had told me the amount, I was pretty sure, so I handed it through the airlock without counting. 

At the end of the transaction, the amount seemed to match what Ron had told me.  But he was on the phone so I couldn't ask.  When he found out the total, he went nuclear.  He said it was $100 less than what he counted.  I told him, I watched her count it, twice.  It was $X.  Ron insisted it was $Y.

I asked him if he wanted to see the manager and he said no, but he was very angry at me for "letting" him be robbed.  I couldn't help but wonder if he had been drinking while he counted the money.  But I do admit I didn't count it, myself, so it could have been what Ron said.  He began screaming at me. 

I offered to give him the $100 out of my pay, if he wanted it.  No, he said, he wasn't a jerk, he wouldn't do that.  Instead he kept screaming at me in front of the whole bank.  "I should beat you for this!" etc. 

I asked if he wanted to wait outside, he said yes.  He had called a cab to go home.  He was still shouting at me when it pulled up.  It was a muslim driver.  The guy was very uncomfortable. 

Then Ron tried to pay the guy with $80 in 20's, instead of $20 in fives.  I had to correct him and he shouted at me some more.  He finally gave a $20 to the cab driver (it's not often I feel sorry for a muslim, but in this case I did).  I got the wheelchair out and brought it to Ron. 

He got in and we went in the house.  Thank God he did not start drinking. The dentist called, there was a problem with our discount plan. 

Apparently, when they called to verify us, they couldn't find us in the computer.  Well, him.  But I assume I am included.  He was on the phone, of and on, for a while. 

I went to bed while it was still quiet.  I heard Ron on the phone, off and on.  He turned up the air conditioning, I reached for a blanket.  I didn't want to get into a dispute with him over the temperature, especially considering everything else that had happened. 

I fell asleep.  I didn't sleep well but I did sleep.  I felt better once Torbie came to bed and joined me.  She has been neglecting me, lately. 

Which reminds me, I need to clean the litter box. 

I got up after Ron went to bed.  It's after 5 now so I hope he made the trips for tomorrow, 5 PM is the cutoff. 

Tomorrow I need to take out the trash and at some point I need to do a load of laundry, but that can wait a while. 

Oh, I'm tired.  Tomorrow looks to be even busier. 

Monday

Sometimes I sit in front of my computer, thinking "No one wants to hear about my day".  It is, I think, "boring".  Then I look at my stats.  Well, someone does.  I try to write as though I don't know how many people are reading, though. 

(Actual readership is down lately, but I try not to take it personally). 

I got up early, fed the cats, and took my shower.  I did my God Time later.  I got dressed, made sure Ron was presentable, and got ready for work. 

Ron has vitiligo (lack of pigmentation) on his head, and those areas burned pretty badly last week.  He even had blisters, unheard of for a black man of any complexion.  He's been wearing a hat to hide the damage. 

We left and got stuck with "the teacher".  She was wearing a musty-smelling perfume that reminded me of something dragged out of a grandmother's basement.  It wasn't pleasant.  When I moved up to her seat after she got to her destination, it got on me.  She must have sprayed it on right before she put on the seatbelt. 

She complained that her husband, who can drive, had gotten to her destination before her.  I asked the driver, later, "Why didn't he just give her a ride to work, then?"  He didn't have an answer.  She also had a long drama-filled phone call (at least she didn't put it on speakerphone).  Sigh.  I just hate riding with her. 

I just want a nice, quiet, ride, to - oh crap.  I left my badge and keys at home.  That was fun, telling Ron, but he was nice about it. 

It has been a couple years since I did that. 

We got into work and I got set up.  I emptied the yuck bucket on the coffee vending machine and pulled the carts out into the common area.  I chatted with "everyone" who wanted to know about my mother's day. 

I told them the truth, Baby Girl brought me a large roach this morning and let it loose in the bathtub.  During my shower.  I mashed it pretty good with a bottle of shampoo, and washed it down the drain.  People had a giggle at that and it diverted how I really spent my day. 

I got everything stocked and helped Ron with his work.  We finished up on time and left to come home. 

I took a long nap.  I try to sleep as much as I can when I'm depressed so I can avoid being awake and miserable. 

I got up and changed the air filter in the air conditioner.  I didn't want to overload or burn out the unit.  I got it done sitting on the floor.  The intake vent is just off the floor. 

That done, the air conditioner seems to be running less.  That's good, will save us money. 

I am fortunate: Ron doesn't feel the need to keep the house at 65 degrees in the summertime just to "prove" he can.  Keeping the house like a meat locker is not my idea of "comfortable".  I like it closer to 80.  So does he.  So we keep it there.  It also saves us a lot of money. 

Ron woke up.  He was in a good mood.  He will, however, need to have yet more dental work done. He says something is hurting whenever he drinks water on the left side of his mouth.  I just sigh and wish he would take care of his teeth. 

He says it is too late, they are all ruined, so what's the point. 

And he doesn't think he has problems with depression. 

Our mothers (Ron's and mine)

Normally I get angry/frustrated/sad when I wake up and find Ron totally drunk, slumped in his wheelchair in the kitchen, at 7:30 in the morning.  I find it pathetic and sad. 

But it's mother's day. 

Now, you have, by now heard a lot about my own mother situation.  My birth mother planned my pregnancy after losing my infant brother, to meningitis.  They carefully planned intercourse, used a thermometer, logged her periods, etc. 

She got pregnant.  With me.  Then she began (or continued, I don't know) binge-drinking every day, at least a fifth a day, 750 ml a day of the hard stuff.  She gave birth.  I was induced, and a couple days overdue. 

I'm sure that wasn't a pleasant delivery.  I have heard those induction hormones are pretty harsh.  So, I'm born.  She neglected me so severely that child services got involved and they gave my Dad custody in the 70's, when fathers never got custody.   It took me years to catch up on the growth charts. 

For today's purposes, I will just focus on my birth mother.  My whole life I knew that my birth mother, while she "loved" me, basically threw me away to feed her own dramas.  That's been pretty painful.  It is also hard to accept she willingly chose to disable me for my entire life.  She had to know that much alcohol was bad for the baby.  She was warned it was bad for the baby (per my sister). . She kept drinking. 

So, I'm left with, yet again "Alcohol is more important than my love for you".  Hard. 

Ron couldn't really understand what I was going through.  He had a very good relationship with his mother, called her "girlfriend", confided in her, etc.  He may not have called her often, but when he did they had long conversations. 

He knew she loved him, he was her baby.  They were close. 

Then the accident.  I noticed it first, she was disabled and had some aches and pains.  Whenever we talked about Ron in the waiting room, she would start talking about her aches and pains, trying to one-up whatever Ron was going through.  OK, I can live with that.  She decided she didn't want to visit anymore, because it was too hard for her husband to push "all that meat" (his words) in the wheelchair from the free parking building.  OK.  I can live with that.  She was kind of a downer anyway. 

While I was planning Ron's recovery, Ron's family was plotting to put him in a nursing home.  When he woke up with head injury dementia his fate, as they saw it, was sealed.  However, Ron didn't have Medicare at the time (long story).  So, much as they wanted, they couldn't put Ron in a nursing home until the Medicare kicked in.  They were adamant I had to get that going, I did.  After all, we would need a disability check to live on.  They plotted in front of him, thinking he was too confused to remember. 

They just had to get rid of me, somehow. 

They finally picked the perfect method, and it would have worked.  Ron and I were not legally married, so his parents had "custody" of him.  I didn't get to say where he went, one reason I am adamant you shouldn't live with someone unless you are married.  This is what happens, if you don't listen. 

They would move me, and Ron, into his parents house.  I would be responsible for not one disabled person in need of assistance, but three.  His mother needed a full-time caregiver just on her own.  I would be trapped, literally, in the ghetto, with no way out.  I would be the unpaid slave caregiver for Ron and his parents until I burned out, which, they hoped, would coincide with the resumption of Ron's Medicaid.  Then they could blame me for running out on him and put him in the nursing home. 

Ron had a lucid moment, though, and realized what was happening.  He called his Dad to come visit him.  Dad showed.  Ron explained to his Dad: he really wanted to go home with me.  If Dad loved him, he would let that happen.  Dad would be free to visit but Ron couldn't put "the weight" on his parents like that.  Please, sign the forms so Heather can take me home to my cat. 

That was the other thing, I was supposed to let myself get evicted and lose my cats, so I could "take care of" Ron.  You know how I love my cats. 

Ron begged his Dad, and his Dad realized Ron really had the right idea, so he "let" me have Ron.  His brother and sister were very upset. 

His brother kidnapped me and tried to take me to Social Security to "prove" I had "done everything right".  I tried to explain, they don't take walk-ins. 

I ended up having to resort to blackmail.  Ron had told me his brother was having an affair.  I let his brother know I knew and I had his wife's cell phone number.  Unless he wanted "his secrets" coming out, he had better take me back to the hospital. 

He did. 

Then his sister showed up, screaming at Ron.  I actually walked out of the room.  She got very angry at me, but I quoted an old movie at her "You have no power over me".  Actually, I said "I was nice to you on the chance you would help us.  But you're clearly not so I don't care what you think of me anymore.  You have no power over me."  Then I walked out.  I hate bullies. 

She was so horrible the hospital threw her out.  They actually (one of the nurses) followed me to make sure I didn't just leave altogether.  That's how awful she was. 

That's not who I am, though.  I am tenacious as a tick and stubborn as a mule when it comes to those I love.  That is a good thing, and a bad one. 

So, the next day I finally got to take Ron home.  Ron's Dad would visit every day or so and watch Ron while I took a shower.  Sometimes he brought fast food for Ron.  One day I caught him feeding French fries to my cat.  I didn't mind.  They were all having a good time. 

Ron made a slow recovery, but a steady one.  But when he really came back his Dad stopped visiting.  Dad even repossessed a dead relative's commode they had "loaned" us because "they needed it" (they already had one).  I assume the other kids had something to do with it.  Ron had been fixing up his brother's computer when he got hurt, his brother demanded the computer back.  Ron and I finished fixing it and sent it back with his Dad. 

In the meantime, Ron heard very little from his mother.  He called her one day and asked her why they had tried to put him in a nursing home.  She denied it.  He told her he heard them, while he appeared to be in a coma and "out of it" after he woke up, he had heard them discussing it.  She denied it again. 

Ron just wanted an apology for trying to put him in a nursing home.  He never got it.  They cut off contact, stopped taking his calls, and when we went to visit told us not to come back "without calling" but they weren't taking our calls!  Ron called them once on my cell phone, right after I got it, because it was a different number.  Sure enough, they picked up.  They talked for a little bit and "had to go".  Then, the next time he called on my phone, they didn't pick up. 

And that was that.  Ron's "Girlfriend" didn't want him any more.  She just threw him out over some petty bullshit. 

I think, at the end of it, no one in Ron's family assumed he would make any kind of meaningful recovery, so they just wrote him off.  But he did recover.  He does spreadsheets and P&L's now.  I think they are embarrassed they were so quick to write him off, when the "crazy white girl" (me), didn't. 

When we bought the house Ron called his mother and told her she would have a place in our home, if she wanted it, as long as she kept the diabetic diet.  She was very bad about staying on her eating plan.  She thanked him, but hung up. 

They never called us, even though I gave his Dad a photo of Ron with the cell phone number on the back.  I made it as easy as possible. 

Eventually Ron gave up trying to get ahold of his parents.  We were told, by a nephew (I am FB friends with a  nephew and a cousin) they had been placed in a nursing home, which I found ironic.  His Dad died of dementia last year.  I do miss him, he was a kind man (to me). 

His mother is still alive.  I have asked Ron, periodically, if he wants to try to get her phone number.  He could call her and see if she would like a visit.  Then we could go visit.  Ron said no. 

That's his decision.  I think, though, he is very sad he doesn't have a mother today.  For all intents and purposes, she died 14 years ago. 

No wonder he got drunk at 7 in the morning. 

1.5 days in one, again.

I'm tired, and depressed, so I'll keep this one short. 

Yesterday, after I did my blog, I did my God Time and shower.  I took a short nap and then we went to Sam's Club.  Sam's Club was chaos.  Screaming children, long lines, etc.  I think it went back to Mother's Day. 

We got 3 cases of water and came home, put them in the garage, and went to bed.  The #6 kids were a little loud last night playing, but I got to sleep in pretty decent time. 

My alarm went off at 1:45 AM.  Soda delivery day.  I tried to reset it for 2:30 but ended up turning it off.  I woke up at 3:30.  Oops.  I barely had time to dress before our ride arrived. 

We got to work, did it all, stocked, did our inventory, and got our delivery.  We paid cash and off we went. 

We came home and I got a good long nap.  Then, for whatever reason, Ron had made a trip to Walmart.  I went. 

Again, with the screaming children and the long lines.  I really prefer to shop in the morning. 

I got cat litter, some food, etc. 

We came home. 

I'm getting ready to go to bed tonight because I'm exhausted.  Tomorrow we have our "big truck" delivery/shop day, but I have an accurate inventory so I know what I need. 

Oh, I'm tired.  I will write in more detail tomorrow. 

Depressed again

Aaaand, there's the depression.  Oh, I hate it. 

Years ago, I told my aunt I had fallen into a deep depression after a visit to my sister (the hoarder).  My aunt tried to tell me that it was normal to "get a little sad" after a visit with family, not to worry, I'd get over it.  I knew it was worse than that. 

My depressions, as a rule, are not dependent on current events.  My mugging and some of Ron's blackouts nonwithstanding.  Those have triggered depressions.  I had such a nice mania going, too, when I got mugged, but I remind myself I did beat him up and he didn't get anything of value either. 

So, depressed.  I've been having post-traumatic nightmares, too.  Issues, issues, issues. 

I am probably in need of good therapy (I hear you laughing, over there), but doubt I could find a quality therapist, who's a believer, who is accessible to me getting there by myself. 

So, yesterday was pretty quiet.  I slept in until 8, got up, did my shower and God Time (I am running behind, today), watched a little TV, and took a nap.  I got up and went to Walmart with Chuck.  Ron didn't want to go and it was "supposed" to rain today, which of course it never did. 

We are headed for a drought if we don't get some rain, soon, though. 

I got what I needed at Walmart (no cookies, though, I need to get back on a better eating plan) and came home.  I put everything away and went to bed pretty early. 

I got up at 8 am today (common theme, here, 8 AM is my magical sleep late time), and fed the cats, watched a little TV, and ate my protein bar for breakfast.  I took my pills, drank my Diet Mountain Dew, all my usual stuff.  I will have to wrap it up pretty soon, though, and get my shower.  Then my God Time. 

After that, hopefully a short nap and then we are going somewhere? I think Sam's Club, to get some waters for work.  I'll see when Ron gets up. 

I just feel so oppressed, stuck in the past, brooding on things that happened decades ago.  It doesn't do any good, and I'll "get over" it eventually. 

I just don't see how anyone with this illness would choose to manage it without medication. 

A trip to Galveston

I'm going to try to post a photo.  It is recent.  Sorry about my hair, Galveston is pretty breezy. 

Good, it worked. 

So, we got up, went to work yesterday.  We stocked and made sure everything looked good, then went outside with our small duffel bag (Ron wanted to bring some stuff, like his back massager and his digital talking book machine). 

I was happy with everything I brought, but I plan to add a nightlight to the list. 

Mom and Dad showed up, we hugged, I threw the wheelchair in the trunk.  It fit nicely with their luggage (a rolling suitcase and a backpack), and our duffel bag. 

I brought them drinks from the bottled vendor. 

We rode down to Galveston and got there pretty quick.  Now, contrast that to traveling with public transit.  Get downtown somehow, buy a ticket to Galveston, ride the Greyhound (actually I think it is Kerrville transit) to the bus station in Galveston (actually a gas station), catch a cab to the hotel. 

Mom wanted to do "something fun" so we found the Duck tour.  They were full up.  We went to lunch at Chick-fil-a and went back.  Ron got sunburned on the top of his head, waiting.  But I guess he needs the Vitamin D. 

Mom bought tickets for the Duck; and it came back.  It has a set of stairs and is not wheelchair accessible.  However, I felt Ron could probably climb the set of stairs into the vehicle.  I was right, he took his time and got there just fine. 

He sat to the right of the aisle and I sat next to him.  My butt was a little wide for the seat and he hung off the edge, in the aisle area, a little.  He was very nice about it. 

We did the tour, it was fun.  Mom and Dad got to see a little of historic Galveston.  We (Ron and I) also learned some interesting information about post-hurricane Ike.  They had waterlines painted on some of the buildings. 

We got back to the location and Ron got off, very carefully.  He made it down OK (oh, that would have been awful!). 

We went to the hotel and checked in.  I had been a little worried about the credit card because we had had some trouble with it at the vet last year, but it worked fine.  At least, the lady gave it back to me along with a room key. 

We were on the ground floor, in a nice little room with a king bed.  It was done up in teal, blue, and chocolate brown.  I thought it was nice but I wouldn't want it in my house.  They had a huge photograph of ships at dock at the head of the bed.  The bathroom had the famous, and much-loved multiple features showerhead.  I love that thing. 

They had all the usual things like drinking cups, soap, etc. 

They had 2 vending machines up by the front desk area. 

We laid down for a little bit, I thought it would be good to get some rest because I didn't get enough Sunday night (with #6's party with the bouncy house and the loud talking half the night).  I didn't sleep but I felt better when I got up. 

I got dressed, brushed my teeth, and brushed my hair.  I fixed Ron's hair in a ponytail so it wouldn't blow all over.  I knew Mom would want some photos so I wanted to pretty us up. 

They came and picked us up, we went to Landry's.  It is a very nice restaurant right on the Seawall.  The seawall is right on the beach, so Mom and Dad could see the water as they looked out the window at dinner. 

Our server was a little terse but otherwise OK.  I had been drinking diet sodas all day, way over my caffeine limit, and I didn't stop now.  I must have had 4 diet Cokes with dinner.  Ron had one glass of wine.  Mom and Dad each had a glass of wine.  I drank my diet soda. 

Dad had crab cakes.  Mom has gluten issues so she had broiled shrimp.  I had the Mariner's platter.  It had stuffed crab, scallops, some kind of broiled fish (it was well seasoned and good), and some shrimp brochette (shrimp wrapped in bacon and broiled).  Ron had shrimp brochette, they came on a skewer and were easier for him to eat.  He had a good time and didn't make a mess. 

They asked us if we wanted dessert.  Dad had (his usual) plain vanilla ice cream.  Mom had vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce.  I had the bread pudding.  I think next time I get the bread pudding I will get it without sauce.  I didn't like the sauce but I ate most of my portion.  Ron, as usual, didn't get dessert. 

We went back to the hotel, I unloaded the wheelchair (good thing I didn't overeat!) and we went to bed.  The room needed a nightlight.  I was unfamiliar with it and it was too dark with all the lights off, I couldn't see my way around.  I finally left the vanity light on, it was the most subdued of all the lighting choices, but I still slept with a light on.  I didn't want to stub my toe when I got up to pee, though, and I knew I would have to get up a couple times. 

The bed was comfortable and the bedding was in good shape.  This motel gets a little better every year.  It also had some nice hard flooring.  It wasn't laminate, and it wasn't hardwood, some kind of synthetic, but it was comfortable and clean to walk on in my bare feet. 

Ron and I went to bed.  I kept waking up every couple hours, but I did get some sleep.  I was worried I would sleep too late, that happens to me pretty easily in Galveston.  Ron said he didn't sleep because he was worried about disturbing my sleep.  He wants to get two queen beds, next time. 

I'm OK with that.  But next time I need a nightlight.  I think I will sleep a lot better without that vanity light. 

I had a nightmare and woke up around 6.  The nightmare revolved around old issues so I didn't pay it much mind. 

I got up and took a shower.  The sun was rising and I wished I had a window in the bathroom, but I got a couple of good peeks out the window before I showered.  The seagulls were just starting to caw as they woke up for breakfast. 

I discovered my period had started.  Good thing I brought supplies!  I took my shower with the fabulous showerhead.  It has all kinds of setting from a gentle mist to a firehose setting great for rinsing my hair. 

I used the hotel shampoo, soap, and conditioner.  Why not, we already paid for it! 

I made a pot of hotel coffee and had a cup, to wash down the aspirin for my headache. 

I got dressed and decided to go to the grocery store.  I needed to get some bread for the seagulls and drinks for the ride home. 

The great thing about Galveston is it's a small town.  I can walk anywhere I needed to go.  I can't tell you how nice that is for someone transit-dependent from the big city.  So, I walked over to the grocery store. 

I got 3 loaves of wheat bread and some drinks.  I had a headache, but I had taken some aspirin.  I decided to get a pastry from the bakery. 

I paid and left.  I swear the seagulls knew I had bread, they were hovering over me as I left the store.  I walked across the parking lot.  They followed me. 

I tore off some chunks of pastry and threw it to the eager birds.  They cawed and laughed at me.  We had a good time. 

I got back to the hotel.  Ron woke up right about the time Mom sent me a text asking when we'd be ready.  After conferring with Ron, I told her half an hour. 

We got ready to leave.  I double checked and made sure we had everything. 

They came.  I gave Ron the bread and drinks, then loaded the bag and wheelchair into the trunk.  We went through a drive through and got breakfast sandwiches, then went to feed the seagulls. 

Unfortunately, we picked a spot near a Mexican family.  The little girl came over and kept bothering me while I was feeding the birds.  They were afraid of her because she kept making erratic moves and yelling. 

I did get the seagulls to come and take bread out of my hand.  The little girl came over, jabbering.  I told her I only spoke English and she said "Oh" and went away for a minute.  Then she came back again, interfering. 

If I did speak Spanish, I would have asked her to have her Dad or Mom go buy her a loaf of bread from the grocery store across the street.  I kept thinking "I only get one day a year to do this, and I have to get bothered by yet another Mexican kid". 

Eventually, she got bored, or her father called her off, I'm not sure.  That's when the mother showed up with the screaming toddler.  That REALLY freaked out the birds.  I kept moving away from her and she kept following me, dragging the baby.   Take a hint!

I'm not here to entertain your family, lady.  Go buy your own loaf of bread.  It's $1.  Please leave me alone.  You can come here whenever you want, I can't. 

I only get one day.

I managed to have a good time, anyway.  I have a couple of "moves" I like to use with the birds.  First one, hold the bread slice in my hand, above my head.  If the birds are confident (no little kids around), and hungry, they will come and take it out of my hand.  Sometimes they take off chunks, sometimes a bold one will take a whole slice. 

Another technique, and I like this one when Ron's listening, is to throw a whole slice of bread to the birds.  They squabble fiercely over the bread, cawing, squawking, and laughing.  They love it.  So does Ron. 

Lastly, I tear pieces off a slice of bread and throw it to the birds.  I like to do that if there are pigeons or sandpipers mixed in with the seagulls, as I had today. 

I was happy to finish and get away from the rude family.  I have learned my lesson, don't feed the birds if anyone is around, especially families with small children who might feel they are entitled to a "show". 

Hopefully, after I left, the kids bugged the parents to buy them some of their own bread so they could feed the birds, themselves.  I mean, really, it's $1.  How can you entertain two kids, for 10 minutes, for $1?  On vacation, no less? 

I got in the car (I had hit my head getting out but I was OK by now) and we went to work.  It was a long ride and I got into my drinks.  We stopped at work, got out and hugged, and they left. 

I put on my badge (still in my flip flops) and put the bag in Ron's lap.  Then I pushed him into the building.  One of the airlock doors caught my flip flop and I almost did a face plant, but I recovered. 

We got to our area and I saw that woman from last Monday, the one who said everyone hates me.  So I put on my work shoes, I wasn't going to give her rope to hang me on a safety violation. 

We stocked for a couple of hours but it was pretty quiet.  I took care of everything, helped Ron, and then we called a cab home.  It started to rain a little as we waited but we stayed pretty dry overall. 

We got home, I ate a bowl of cereal and I took my medication.  Then I took a nap. 

I had a pretty good nap going until I heard guys yelling in Spanish (what is it with the Mexicans today, Lord?) right outside my bedroom wall.  They were inflating the bouncy house again, so I assume I will have screaming children at some future point tonight, when I am trying to sleep. 

I did manage to sleep for about 2 hours, so I took it.  I got up and got caught up on some things. 

God willing, I plan to get to bed pretty early tonight so I can catch up on my sleep. 

Ron and I think it's a good idea to have a "Galveston bag" all packed and ready to go, so we can pick it up at a moment's notice and have a little escape.  I think it would be fun. 

But I need to get a nightlight.