"Your wife is blacker than you!"

I had a lot of trouble sleeping last night.  At first, everyone who lived in #6, all eight of them, wanted to come out and play for a while.  I normally wouldn't have minded but it was my bedtime and they were very loud.  Thankfully, it was still very hot so they didn't last long before they went back inside.  After that, I just had trouble falling asleep. 

I woke up pretty early and took my shower, did my God Time, and ate my protein bar.  They stopped selling "my" brand at Walmart so I am experimenting with different brands. 

I drank my usual Diet Mountain Dew with it.  Usually that is my only source of caffeine for the day. 

I got my bags together because we were going to Walmart.  I made sure I had my money, too.  One time I forgot it and had to borrow money from Ron.  That was embarrassing. 

We had an interesting ride, the driver was doing a rap-a-long with the music on his stereo.  We got to talking about rap, Ron did his usual "I hate that stuff".  The driver asked, "Didn't you grow up [in a bad ghetto]?"  Yes, Ron replied. 

"Your wife is blacker than you!"  I took it as a compliment. 

We got out and I looked for a kiddie cart, but they were stuck behind the "baby carts".  I couldn't get a kiddie cart.  I left Ron by the plastic bag recycling station and did my shopping. 

Ron had actually given me a list, for a change.  He wanted Benadryl in the gelatin capsules, Tic Tac Fruit Adventure, etc.  I got all of that and put it in the cart. 

I got some more protein bars, canned food (mainly chili, and canned lasagna.  I did get a shelf stable roast beef dinner).  I bought a gallon of organic milk and thought about getting some shredded cheese.  I decided not to do it because I think I might have some in the bottom of the fridge.  Even if it's bad, it's a good indicator that I am not a big consumer of shredded cheese right now. 

I got some big (28 ounce) Styrofoam bowls so I can heat up the chili, and more cat food of course.  The cats have plenty of their little plates so I'm not worried about that. 

I finished up pretty quickly and checked out.  I got myself some lunch at McDonald's and ate that.  About the time I finished, our cab came.  It was Anthony.  I like Anthony. 

We, of course, had to pick up another client as well.  She took the front seat while I was loading our (Ron's and mine) groceries in the back.  But when we got to her place and she got out, I jumped up front.  I don't like the "boa constrictor" seat belts in the backseat, they cut into my neck and interfere with my circulation.  It makes me dizzy and sick.  All of the "wheelchair cabs" are like this.  That's why I always grab the front seat if I can. 

We got home and I put the milk away, then took a nap.  I had a post-traumatic nightmare that woke me up but good.  It was horrible.  It's awful how something that happened 30 years ago can still eat at me and define me even today. 

I did my new Tuesday ritual and cleaned the house while I watched Hoarders.  I cleaned the front room, threw away a lot of stuff, swept, cleaned the bathtub, and washed the sheets.  I am about to change the sheets when I finish the blog. 

Tomorrow, Ron has his MRI.  That should be interesting.  I would be shocked if we found anything, I am almost certain this is nerve disease.  So we will basically be wasting $300 for Ron's drinking. 

Ron got ugly with me a while ago.  He was feeding the cats treats in his bed and Torbie ("my" cat) took treats from Baby Girl ("his" cat).  He was very angry, and raving.  I told him if he wants to stop that and keep Torbie out of his room (he is always complaining she is getting into bed with him), he needs to stop feeding treats in the bedroom.  No, he didn't want to do that.  He said I was a "bad mother" because I wouldn't "come and get her" and then called me by my mother's name.  I asked him if he wanted me to call him (his Dad's name, because his dad was also an alcoholic) when he drinks.  He said yes but I could tell he got the point. 

The point being, I told him, you can't have it both ways.  Either you will feed treats in your room, treats will be "stolen", and you will have my cat in your bed; or you can stop feeding treats in your room and eliminate all those problems.  Ron said something about "teaching" her "not to steal".  I reminded him she's a cat and sort of beyond that.  He finally shut up. 

Oh, I forgot to mention.  I covered the loveseat with a sheet to keep off the cat hair.  It was really thick with cat hair.  I bought another sheet and washed it.  Today I removed the old sheet, used a lint brush on the couch (because some of the cat hair got through), threw it away, and put on the new sheet.  It looks very good.  I moved the little blanket Biscuit liked to sleep on. 

When he got on the couch, he kept sniffing around and acting upset.  I realized, thanks to "My Cat From Hell", I had removed his "scent markers".  So I found the little blanket and put it on the back of the couch.  Biscuit has been very happy ever since. 

And I need to get to bed.  Well, I need to change my sheets and then go to bed.