I didn't sleep well last night, worried about them moving the vending machines on Monday. Would our guy need help? Could he get it? Would they break one of our machines?
I slept as late as I could, which turned out to be around 8 AM. I got up, watched a little Law & Order, did my shoulder exercises, and took a shower.
While in the shower, I had a dilemma "Do I shave my legs now, or tomorrow morning at 4 AM?" I decided I did not want to shave my legs tomorrow morning, so I did them today. I used the keratin shampoo (Suave brand) as my hair seemed a little dry and frizzy of late.
I got out, dried off, and did some of my God Time. I am a little out of practice, but I plan to get back into it. Even doing the Bible study portion every day is a good start.
I tried to take a nap, as we would be "out" during my nap time. I couldn't sleep, still worried. If you are so inclined, some prayers for tomorrow to go smoothly would be great.
I got up and worked on my computer a little bit. Ron woke up and got ready to leave.
I rolled him outside a few minutes before the pickup time. She was half an hour late. She had two "church ladies" on board who were gossiping about some poor kid who just died. Then they went to gossiping about some sexual indiscretions they knew of. It wasn't, I felt, a very good witness.
Christians are not supposed to gossip, but we are probably the worst at it. We dropped one lady off, in spite of her giving no, to very bad, directions.
Then we got dropped at the mall.
Side note, I have been very surprised, when, in large parking lots, I see a lot of Houstonians wearing hoodies, long sleeves, and jeans. It is a feels like temperature of at least 100 degrees (F), and about 38 Celsius. It's insane. Isn't anyone wearing summer clothes any more? They must run from the air conditioned house to the air conditioned car, then the air conditioned building, and all in reverse to go home. You couldn't pay me to dress like that.
Correction: I would only dress that way if it were a required work uniform and I really needed the money.
We went to the Taco Bell. I saw a advertisement for a taco salad. I ordered that, figuring I would avoid the bowl. The "old" taco salads used to have a salad, with taco meat and sour cream on top. When I sat down to eat it, I discovered it also had rice and beans as well, which I didn't eat. It wasn't very filling. I complained to Ron and he ate what was left of my bowl.
He gave me some money to go to Subway. They had 3 employees, one of whom had Down's Syndrome. I wondered how he held up during the rush times. He seemed to be doing pretty well, though.
I ordered a salad, and he got a big bowl and put the meat into it. The next guy put my veggies into the bowl and then chopped it all up. I got lettuce, cucumber, spinach, and some banana peppers, but I won't get the peppers again.
They put it in a bowl and I paid for it. I ate it. It took a while but it was pretty good. I decided to take my medication, even though it is notorious about not liking salads. So far, so good.
Ron thought he ought to "try" to use the family bathroom, but there was a line. The Mexican man in front of us, with two little girls, took so long in there I wondered if he was molesting them.
That's one thing I don't get about Gen X and millennial parents. They are always obsessed with the bathroom. They will take 10-12 year old boys into the lady's room because "I don't want him to get molested".
How often do you hear of a stranger molesting a child in a public bathroom? Never. Parents are just freaking out over nothing.
One of the people in line for the family bathroom was a 10 year old boy. Certainly old enough to use the men's room, but his mother wouldn't let him in there unless his father took him. What is she worried about, some stranger is going to bend him over the sink and rape him in front of 50 other men? In Texas?
Growing up, when my Dad was a single parent he had to take me in the men's room. Some of the men objected but he always explained "I am her only parent". One time a nice lady offered to take me in the lady's room, and she was very kind. My Dad let her, and, sure enough, she brought me back in pristine condition.
I think if a child is old enough to read, it is old enough to use the appropriate gender's bathroom. Without hovering or panicking. These parents aren't doing accurate probability estimates. I hate when that impacts us in a negative way.
We got our 10-minute callout so we left. I spent a little time picking some lettuce out of my teeth. It's the same spot that always catches kale.
Our driver came. We had a pretty unremarkable trip until we picked up a developmentally delayed woman who kept insisting we lived on (another street, another subdivision entirely). We kept telling her no, she had us mixed up with someone else, but she wouldn't let it go. She only really shut up when we turned into the subdivision.
I have ridden with her before. Like everyone, developmentally delayed individuals can range from very unpleasant to outright delightful. She fell at the lower end of the spectrum.
Then the driver tried to guilt me into calling in a compliment. I hate it when drivers do that. Generally they are poor to average drivers and not remarkable in any way. If I have a really good experience, I will call in the compliment myself, without any prompting.
But some of them are always pushing. Maybe they have a lot of complaints and are trying to balance them out. Some of them are trying to win "contests" with a cash prize.
I just find it annoying when the drivers pester me for a compliment, especially when I got what I would consider "average" service.
We came in the house. I realized, to my horror, I had forgotten to lock the door between the house and the garage, but it stayed shut and didn't open. I will remember to do that from now on.
We started locking the door when, one day, we opened the garage door and two cats ran out. Biscuit was more meandering, I was able to catch him. Baby Girl ran off down the street and we didn't see her until she got hungry again.
Torbie was a smart girl, she wasn't leaving her nice comfortable house and food bowl for any adventures.
Biscuit threw up in my bed this morning, I found it later. Sigh. I can see why he got dumped. He's just a puker. Bubba was so bad I used to layer mattress pads and sheets so I could just peel off the soiled one and have a fresh sheet underneath. Other than the puking (he eats too fast), he's perfectly healthy, and he's fat enough we know he's getting enough food. Too much food.
Other than that the cats are good. Torbie stopped sleeping by my head when my shoulder began to feel better. I guess she only wanted to be "nurse cat". Now that I'm better, goodbye.
Baby Girl is as neurotic as ever. She hissed at Ron when he was petting her, the other day. He pushed her off the bed. Then she came back and wanted treats.
Biscuit will come to me, an hour or two before dinner time, and act like he is dying. He's just wanting dinner. He always shuts up after I feed him (at 6:30 PM, dinnertime). He always gets very excited when I wake up in the morning because he knows it's time for breakfast. This morning, he laid on my legs for a while as I slept in bed (probably when he threw up). He is looking very cute right now, sleeping in his basket with his paws on top of his head.
Tomorrow should be interesting. We will see how the whole moving the vending machines thing goes because apparently they will be changing out the flooring, in our area, in the near future. That will be a big mess for everyone concerned. I plan to consider this a dry run.
Hopefully I will get a good night's sleep. My dinner didn't have a lot of protein and fat so I am still kind of hungry. I may need to have a sausage patty before I go to bed, which will be in a couple of hours.
Ron is listening to classical music and reminiscing about an old girlfriend. I wish he would be a little less obvious about it. Apparently she was wealthy, educated, and sophisticated, everything I'm not. She is also in her 60's now, most likely overweight and definitely menopausal. She probably has grandkids.
That's one thing I'll never have, and I won't miss it.
No comments:
Post a Comment