"Right Mind"

I got to sleep late today; I got up at 8.  Still tired, though.  Always tired. 

Not the illness, the "cure".  I wish it wasn't this way but it is. 

I had a thought, in the shower: I have never been in my "right mind".  I was either under the control of my illness "Let's marry a verbally abusive alcoholic!" or under the influence of my medication, asking the same question three times in a row because I forget the answer.  I suppose I don't know what it is to be in my "right mind". 

God will fix all that one day; there's nothing I can do about it now.  My situation is very black and white.  Sick, or not.  Medicated, or not.  No real gray there.  Which is fine.  Grey is, in my opinion, a bad area. 

Good grammar there, Heather. 

We went to work.  Uneventful.  Ron didn't give us enough time at work so it was challenging.  I have decided Ron creates dramas for himself: he doesn't get ready to leave home until after the ride arrives, he works until the last minute at work, etc. 

I have decided if he wants to create drama that's fine, I don't have to participate.  So I don't.  It bothered him some, today. 

Then we got outside.  The driver pulled up in an odd fashion, making it impossible for me to load Ron normally.  Ron normally climbs in the backseat, I either join him or sit in the front seat, and off we go. 

She got out and glared at me as I pushed Ron over to the back driver's side seat, the only one she had left "open" to access by the wheelchair.  I could see she had a client in the front seat, fine.  I would sit in the back. 

She told Ron he could not transfer, it was "a rule".  Ron said it wasn't, because other drivers let him transfer all the time.  She said she would have to call dispatch, as if that settled it.  She stood there.  I told her, go ahead and call dispatch.  She stood there for another minute or two and said Ron couldn't transfer, because I was riding, and she had [taken up] the back passenger seat with a walker.  Drivers are supposed to put all adaptive equipment in the back compartment so it doesn't take up seats.  I didn't state the obvious, put the walker in the back compartment like you're supposed to and let Ron sit there.  I just told Ron to ride in the back.  Then she got very confrontational with him about his "ticket".  Ron showed her his pass.  He was pretty frustrated by this point but he let her strap him in. 
He did ask her the driver number so he could call in a complaint. 

In response, she called dispatch, slandering Ron, making false statements about him making "horrible comments" and saying he refused to show his ID, which was a flat out lie. 

Ron calmed down and talked to her about other things, but she wouldn't answer him, so he talked to me.  We were kidding around and laughing and she hated it.  She was boiling.  She was so angry she wouldn't even take some candy from me, and the drivers love that stuff. 

I was just glad we got away from her.  Later on, I encouraged Ron to call in a complaint, which he did.  They will "get" her on the storing equipment in the backseat.  It is ridiculous to get so ugly with a client because he simply wants to ride in a regular seat, which is totally permissible if it doesn't already have a client in it.  But she had it in her head, the walker would go here, Ron would go there, etc.  She seemed upset that I was riding, even, and it's in the notes.  I doubt they will "get" her on the ugly but if they look at the video they will see she was very rude to us. 

Ron already has troubles with his temper due to the head injury, and when someone is baiting him he often "bites", one reason I don't fight dirty with him.  It's not fair to either of us. 

Anyway, we went into the bank.  We made our deposit and I got paid.  Then we left.  Ron was still so frazzled by our earlier experience he wanted to go to Cracker Barrel.  I said OK. 

I remembered nice big pieces of fried fish on Friday, moist and juicy.  I remembered baskets of cornbread.  We didn't get that.  We got some small, overcooked, pieces of fish, no bread, and a $10 a plate bill.  I wasn't impressed.  I got some blackberry cobbler, which was basically tepid blackberry jam with a half scoop of ice cream on the top.  I wasn't impressed at all. 

In the meantime, Ron loved his meal.  I was glad of that, at least. 

We had a little trouble finding a cab to take us home.  Most of the cabs were working high-end malls in the area.  We finally got Alex, he is great, I like him a lot. 

He took us home.  Ron discovered, to his horror, he screwed up the trips for tomorrow and Monday.  He made the Monday trips for tomorrow and no trips for tomorrow.  So we need to figure out a way to get to Sam's Club tomorrow morning, and a way to get home from work tomorrow afternoon.  The BBQ for dinner trip can stay but nothing else. 

This, of course, means I don't have my desperately needed trip to the Post Office trip on Monday.  Ron said he will arrange for a cab to take me. 

Good, I need to mail my presents.  Well, their presents. 

Oh, I'm tired. Still.  But at least we got it all done today. 

I was smart and laid out all my clothes for tomorrow.  I don't pair my socks, so I always have to dig around and find a matching set (I wear white, quarter crew, cotton socks).  Now I have some and all my clothes are set up and ready to go. 

Good.  It's finally getting busier at work so we have decided we will go to working 6-days a week until it is over.  I don't mind working if we are making money. 

Ron needs dental work; we have property taxes due.  We need all the money we can make.