The vending machine is always optional

Sometimes, I have to balance what someone might read vs. being totally honest. 

If I seem a little stilted that's why. 

I went to bed, no phone call.  I woke up, no missed calls, no voicemail, no text.  A post on Facebook how much fun they all had, her kids, their families, him, and her.  "Missing those who aren't here". 

Well, I couldn't have eaten the gumbo.  I don't even need to ask to know that would not work with my medication.  Ironic that the California son is the one making gumbo and I'm married to a Creole. 

Ron says I do make a good gumbo, when I do, but ever since he found the frozen gumbo he hasn't asked me to make any. 

It's very hard not to feel unimportant.  But last year I didn't mail a present because I was sick, I didn't want to get cooties all over the place and get them sick.  But they may not have seen it that way. 

I am unreliable when it comes to birthdays and I can't remember the last time I did something for their anniversary.   One could make an argument for me being a "bad daughter". 

But they could have sent me a text.  How hard is that?  There, I'm done. 

I had a hard time getting up this morning so I managed to reset my alarm, I didn't do my God Time today as a result.  When I did get up I took an abbreviated shower (I always have to wash my hair) and got ready for work. 

We went to work.  Sales were, as expected, dead.  Sales have been really bad this year.  I know we will make enough, somehow, to pay the property tax but it looks pretty grim.  I may need to talk to Ron about lowering my pay.  If we have to cut my pay to buy more inventory or whatever, I am OK with that.  I don't want to take my regular wage if it is hurting the bottom line. 

I stocked what I could.  The sandwich guy called early, and made an early delivery.  I was glad to see he's feeling better, he had the flu for 2 weeks, his whole family actually.  That must have sucked. 

"My son is the only one who got any presents" he told me. 

I went back to work.  We had a lot of unsold sandwiches.  Sigh.  I always take poor sales so personally.  I feel unwanted, unloved.  No one likes us. 

No, people are being cheap because they bought a lot of presents and have to make payments on the credit card.  Or they didn't get the hours they thought and cut back on "discretionary" spending as a result. 

The vending machine is always optional, unless you are a diabetic having a catastrophic drop in your blood sugar.   As far as I know, we don't have many of them running around. 

They would probably put them out on disability, rather than chance them working with heavy equipment. 

So, we finished work.  I told the other vendor's wife how much Biscuit enjoyed his toy.  She laughed. 

Ron took a while to do his work, but we had enough time. 

We came home.  I checked the mail.  The results of Ron's X-rays came in: fractured clot filter, "advanced arthritic and degenerative changes in lower back", etc.  Very grim. 

Ron was happy he got 3 talking books.  We got a couple of Christmas cards, a bank statement, and something from an insurance company (not ours).  I took a nap. 

I had a hard time getting up again so I got up about 20 minutes before we went to Denny's.  Ron wasn't hungry but he wanted to take me out. 

He got some soup while I got a built your own slam: whole wheat pancakes, fried eggs, ham, and hashbrowns.  I had diet soda. 

Ron spent half the time complaining bitterly about the "bad" paratransit trip (they left us there almost 2 hours) and the rest making phone calls.  I wasn't very happy. 

When I took my medication, it hit me really hard.  I could just envision a tidal wave of pink capsules with "H 98" stamped on them, washing over me (lithium).  I felt pretty off-center, wobbly, and overwhelmed for a while.  I still do, a little. 

This stuff is hardcore.  But I have a hardcore illness - mixed episodes, type one, rapid cycling, psychosis - nothing to play with.  I need hardcore medication.  I would far rather take side effects over symptoms.  No question in my book.  Give me the old stuff, the strong stuff, the benchmark for all other treatments.  I don't want any question marks in my pill box. 

I still feel like I got off the tilt-a-whirl carnival ride, though. 

We don't have anything planned for tomorrow.  Sales are so bad we could probably take half a week off if we wanted.  We won't, but we could. 

I checked the weather app on my phone and it looks like it will be very cold (teens to twenties for our low) this weekend.  Good, that will keep the parties down.  Too bad that couldn't have happened on Christmas eve. 

We can pretty much stay home during all that, except for Tuesday.  The absolute worst of it should be over by then. 

I talked to Ron about the x-ray results.  I asked him if he wants to get the clot filter out, since it is fractured.  He said no, it's fine, he doesn't want any surgery. 

I can't blame him.  He's certainly had a lot.  I also can't help but think Doc would have asked us to come in if it was a major issue. 

We came home.  While I was on the computer, Baby Girl got up with Ron. 

I have to digress.  I was having a pity party earlier over my family and Baby Girl laid on my foot, twice.  For her, that's like getting in my lap.  When I bent over to pet her, she showed me her tummy and let me pet her tummy.  She only lets me do that.  That made me feel a lot better. 

So Baby Girl got up with Ron.  He got the scissors and started cutting out her mats.  I don't know if I've written about this, but over the last year she's started developing mats on her upper back right leg.  Ron managed to cut out several mats, while giving her treats, before she left. 

I told Ron he is the official Baby Girl groomer, and encouraged him to brush her every day too.  We may take her in to the vet to see what is causing the mats but it seems to be a pretty common thing.  I think all they would do is hold her down and shave her, and she's really not going to like that. 

Biscuit slept with my last night, and is currently sleeping on my right foot as I sit at the computer. 

So, that was my day. 

When Ron asked about tomorrow, I told him I am happy to stay home if he controls his drinking.  I told him I didn't want to be stuck at home with him if he has an ugly, abusive, blackout.  He assured me he would not. 

I hope he can keep that promise.