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.