Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Ron always wins

Last night, I awoke to a crippling gallbladder attack.  The pain was incredible.  I flipped from side to side, trying to escape it.  I finally lay down on my left side, which helped (the gallbladder is on the right).  Eventually, I fell back asleep. 

I haven't had a serious gallbladder attack since 2009.  I had two trips to the emergency room, both times they said they couldn't find any stones, and I was stuck with some horrific bills.  I wasn't eager to go get it checked out again, knowing it would just cost me more money and again, no answers. 

Even if they said it had to come out, I would have to take time off of work, time I can't afford.  So, I will just ask God to keep me healthy and try to eat a balanced diet. 

After all that, I overslept, waking up about a half hour before our pickup, when Ron's alarm went off.  No shower for me.  I fixed myself up as best I could and hoped it was good enough. 

We were supposed to meet the repairman, who was fixing 3 of my machines today.  Paratransit ran us late, we had to pick up a slow guy miles out of the way of work.  When he boarded, he started arguing with everything Ron and I said.  We stopped talking to him, then he started interrupting our private conversations with each other, interrupting in an angry manner and adding his little comments.  It was annoying and exhausting.  I could see why his family had put him in a workshop, with an attitude like that, no one would want him around. 

Of course the repairman called us while we were on the way.  He only does that when he's there.  Great.  He got there before we did.  I HATE to make people wait. 

We got there and I had the driver unload us right next to the truck.  We all went in together. 

I unlocked the machines and he went to work.  I had: 5 bad coils in one vending machine.  A burned out lightbulb in the same machine.  A coin jam in the other snack machine, and God knows what was wrong with the coffee machine. 

He got it all in about an hour.  Even the coffee machine.  Coffee vending machines are very complicated.  They have a million parts, all waiting to go wrong.  He fixed the not vending coffee issue (something to do with the cup holder) and the water level issue.  The cups were too full and people were spilling them on the floor.  He fixed that, bringing the level down about half an inch so they won't spill. 

The other vendor's coffee machine, as far as I know, is "down" and inoperable.  So they have to come to us for coffee.  Now they can. 

Now I don't have to hide from angry Postal Workers who always yell about broken coffee vending machines.  I always want to tell them, if you're walking around this hostile, you need to cut back on the caffeine anyway. 

The repairman left.  I really admire him because he has a ferocious work ethic and he is a good family man.  My own Dad put work first, his whole life.  Then he's retired and he doesn't really know us as well as he could have.  He was never at my birthday parties or anything.  This guy will tell me, "Sorry, my kid has a ballgame, I can't come out today".  I wanted to applaud when he said that. 

He is also ethical and doesn't steal like the other guy.  If he finds a dime on the floor, he will give it to us, or put it in the coin mech.  Commendable.  We're lucky to have him. 

I got to work stocking.  As I expected, Snack #1 didn't need much work.  Snack 2, for a change, needed the stocking.  I filled it up, finally able to use ALL the coils for a change.  I do need to get some new inventory, though.  I think cheese munchies.  They do pretty well, a little slower than my hot chips, but well enough.  And it gives some respite to the "I don't want hot snack food" people. 

I wish they had the Ruffles Sour Cream and Onion in a one ounce bag.  I would love to sell those, but they only have them in the larger, "Gas Station" size bags. 

We got it all done and went to the bank.  Ron had a jar of change, but we had a bag in which to hide it.  People get weird if they see money, so you have to hide it, even if it's a jar of nickels going to pay sales tax. 

That's one thing people don't get about small business, we don't get to keep what we make.  Half of it, right off the top, goes to pay inventory, and that's if we're lucky.  Sometimes the cost can be higher.  Add in taxes, payroll, etc. and you are lucky to keep 10%. 

Ron had to ride in the back of the cab.  There was a client riding in the cab going on about how she was blind.  Ron told her he was totally blind and in a wheelchair.  With average civilians, people feel sorry for you for being disabled, but on paratransit it is more comparing who has it worse, and Ron always wins. 

After we went to the bank, the cab driver told us "something" happened at the bank lately that required many police cars, probably a robbery or attempted one.  All I knew, when we walked in, was they had put the employees in "cages", what appeared to be bulletproof Plexiglas.  We had to hand the jar of quarters in through an "airlock".  Only one side could be opened at a time.  It was insane.  I opened my jar and put in the airlock.  Then I closed it.  Then she opened her side and took it out.  Ridiculous. 

It sure made it inconvenient running the $1's, too.  I had to hand them in through the airlock because the little hole at the teller window wouldn't take a single pack of $1 bills.  We made our deposit and got the receipts. 

Ron said I get to keep the money the coffee vending machine makes, because I do all the work on it.  Literally, I do.  I'll take it.  I sure earned it. 

The only thing Ron has done for the coffee machine lately is order me some cups, which, happily, the other vendor was happy to order.  That's going to make life a lot easier.  Saves us a trip with Chuck, the pickup, and the will-call window at the wholesaler. 

We have to buy our coffee machine supplies from a special vending wholesaler.  Except the ground coffee: that I can get from Sam's Club.  I use Dark Roast Community Coffee from Sam's Club.  It's very high quality. 

I know, I drank some today.  Our repairman kept doing test vends on the coffee machine and giving me cups of coffee to drink.  I never drink coffee.  I drank 2.  I had the taste of the coffee in my mouth for over an hour, so it's a good strong blend. 

I also think I should be willing to drink my own coffee.  If I'm not, I need to reevaluate what I'm doing. 

So, when it comes to servicing the machine, I do everything, from emptying the yuck bucket (waste pail) to stocking powders, and of course, calling the repairman. 

We came home in a cab.  The driver gossiped about "whatever" happened at the bank, whatever that was, the other day.  Then he and Ron talked politics for a while. 

When we got home, our yard guys had already been there and subjugated the yard.  It looked great.  I could smell cut grass in my bedroom (I have a pretty big air leak through the cat door). 

I ate, took my pills, and took a nap.  Surprisingly, I slept well.  I wasn't sure I would, what with the coffee and all, but I slept well and woke up pretty refreshed. 

My mood has been pretty good lately, average, not depressed, not manic.  This is what Doc wants for me, more days like this.  I'm still tired, though, but I suppose I will always be due to my medication. 

I'll take what I can get.  At least, apparently, I'll get an average mood when my parents come to visit.  They worry. 

When I got up Ron and Chuck arranged for delivery of a case of Vodka.  I think it is six large bottles.  Each bottle is about 1.75 liters.  This will last him a couple weeks to a month. 

I made sure the cats didn't get out during the "delivery" but that's all I did.  Ron knows I won't touch alcohol or help him drink it. 

The only thing I have done that would qualify is when I bought him those disposable shot glass cups.  That way he understands a proper portion so he can avoid blackouts (most of the time). 

I will probably not do my God Time today, I am feeling tired and weary.  We have tomorrow off so we are just going to Walmart.  My adoptive Mom was very interested to hear about calcium-magnesium-zinc supplements so I plan to get her some. 

That's in addition to what I got the driver. 

Oh, well, I always wanted to be a nutritionist. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Cheers to being level! I know what you are talking about ....I don't know what to say about the vodka deliveries I just hope you get out and have some fun at Walmart . You work three jobs no wonder you are tired ! I think the meds are second to that and the fact you rarely get a true break from stress. You have your God time protected but you need your "Healther time" to fill your own bucket ..that is great on the coffee money and the lady that said that in your Monday blog she sounded like a miserable bully and for what reason you were being nice I thought...sending huge hugs and hoping for quiet nights and a fun trip out for you ! Spank OOOXXX

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