"I need to see you, in my office"

Don't you hate that phrase?  "I need to see you in my office"?  Instant terror.  Hate it, hate it, hate it. 

That's been one good thing about working for Ron, I haven't had to hear that much in the last 20 years. 

But Ron's boss wants to meet with us, this week.  It sounded ominous.  He wants 2 hours, minimum, to meet.  Some of that is just periodic reports, but he also wants to talk about some other issues. 

[gulp]

So we have to meet him in his office, so to speak.  He wanted to meet with us tomorrow but Ron said no.  I don't think Ron should have said no, but it's not my call.  I will have Ron call him tomorrow, or I will send a text, letting him know we won't be there. 

There is no such thing as a turnkey, stress-free job.  There is always a boss who must be made happy. 

So, instead of getting it over with tomorrow, I get to stew an extra day.  Oh, goody.  But Ron is very stubborn.  I can tell there's no budging on this one, assuming we could still make the trip (it's past the paratransit deadline).  I will make sure to send the boss a text, and email, to let him know we won't be there. 

Enough about that, very little I can do about it.  At the end of the day, I'm just the hired lackey.  I don't run the business and my name is on NOTHING. 

When I quit my office job to go work for Ron, my boss said what I was doing was "very brave" and Ron would "always remember the sacrifices I made for him".  I don't know about that.  The longer I go the more I realize I made a huge leap of faith, going to work for Ron.  I just hope I don't land on my face! 

So, today.  I slept in until around 8.  I deliberately slept in.  And I had nightmares again.  I am getting really sick of these nightmares.  I got up, did some computer, took my shower, did my God Time. 

I took a short nap, and had more nightmares.  Then I woke up, Ron wanted to go to Chilis.  I have a problem eating out, a lot of foods will not agree with my medication.  I need simple, bulky, foods.  Something like a steak will not agree, and I'll get sick.  I have literally vomited my steak after taking my medication.  What a waste of money. 

I had a nasty headache, so I took some fake Excedrin. 

Our pickup was late, one day Ron will learn and factor that into the trips: the pickup is ALWAYS late.  Ron was, I felt, rather rude to the driver.  I tried to make up for it by being extra nice and appreciative.  We got to the restaurant. 

The hostess had Down's Syndrome.  I have no problem with that.  But I could tell she would know nothing about the braille menu, so I didn't ask.  Then she tried to seat us next to a table with two babies and a rambunctious toddler.  Ron would have objected, strongly. 

There were plenty of seats in the restaurant.  I asked to be seated somewhere else, and she moved us several tables over.  And, sure enough, as soon as we sat down someone started crying.  They should have kids' hours, and no-kids hours, at restaurants.  The kids could scream, cry, run around,and throw food all they wanted during their time, and adults could enjoy the peace and quiet during theirs.  Or, like one woman I know, keep them home until they are old enough to behave in a restaurant. 

I read the menu to Ron.  He was split between a couple of different things.  I found a bacon cheeseburger that looked pretty safe.  It had a bunch of spreads on it, so, when I ordered it, I asked for it plain, no onions.  Ron ordered chicken tenders. 

We didn't have much time (45 minutes) so we were a little worried about having enough time to eat.  But the food came out OK and I ate it.  I dripped a lot of grease, but not on my clothes, thank God.  Ron enjoyed his chicken.  The hamburger was very good and I took my medication.  I didn't have any problems, either. 

Lithium hates steak, but loves a hamburger.  At least, my pills do.  So I eat the hamburger.  It's good,  juicy (usually), and I don't get sick. 

If I had more time, I might have looked at the desserts, but we had to go.  Of course our ride to go home was also late, so we got our hour, total.  We just spent some of it waiting outside.  We had a straight trip home, talking about food with the driver and her trainee. 

When we got home, I went through my emails.  A couple of emails from the boss, basically saying what he had said in Ron's voicemail.  I just sent him a email back confirming we will see him Thursday.  Hopefully he gets that, the voicemail, or the text message I will send tomorrow and doesn't show up at work.  That would not go well. 

I noticed the cats were hanging out in the computer room, and also noticed the bowl was empty (I keep the food bowl in the computer room, out of Ron's way and easily accessible for all the cats).  They weren't begging, so I fed them.  Also, the bowl was totally empty. 

I like to feed them when the bowl is totally empty.  And when they are not begging.  I want to teach them I see when they need food, and will provide it without nagging.  Don't get me wrong, the begging is cute, but I want them to have some trust I will provide, too.  They all got up to eat, and then the girls left.  I am here with Biscuit lying on my left foot, stretched out and cute. 

I also got a message from Go Fund me, that I got another donation.  At this rate I will be able to buy another 100 Bibles in pretty short order.  This will drive one person nuts, but God always seems to provide more cash when I am running out of Bibles.  I guess He is rewarding me for all the years I shoveled my own money into the program.  I am very careful to be a good steward.  I always want my money going into the program, and no money coming toward me, just toward the Bibles.  I hope that makes sense.  I did tell the sponsor that I have a free shipping coupon, so I will be able to spend all her (I did get her name) money on Bibles alone.  If I donated money toward Bibles, I would want it to go toward just that. 

One day in the future, I need to go to Mardel and print/laminate more signs.  My current signs are pretty trashed.  On the plus side, they are so battered it is apparent I have been doing this a while.  Hopefully my aunt can take me, it's out of the paratransit area, and way off the bus lines. 

Huge parts of the world I can't see, because I'm disabled.  At least I can see.  My body works pretty well from the neck down.   I've never had to pay for a water pump or timing chain, though.  So there's that. 

That would be a good argument if I were looking for another job: I don't drive, but you can pay me less because I don't have car expenses.  I might go for that if I were hiring. 

When Ron was hiring, he hired one doozy named Anna.  She showed up for the job interview in a BMW, driven by her husband, who "borrowed" it from work.  She was dressed like a hooker, in a very revealing outfit.  Ron hired her.  She tried to put a stainless steel bucket in the microwave.  Couldn't understand why I yelled at her to stop.  Couldn't do the work, period.  Kept showing baby pictures of her little niece to everyone and saying her big goal in life was to be a mommy.  That's fine, but we needed someone who could do the work, stable, reliable.  She was none of that.  She quit after a couple of weeks.  All the other employees hated her. 

Another employee came to us with the business.  She was an older woman, one of those gray-haired ladies who dyes her hair black, and it looks really harsh.  She wore a harsh red lipstick, too.  Always sitting down, talking, not doing the work.  If you called her on it "Oh, this is my second job" (implied, I spent all my energy on the first one).  Lied to the customers, lied to us, took 2 weeks off with no notice because her daughter had a miscarriage.  I never got that one at all.   She ended up quitting because it was "too hard" (read: we expected her to work).  She actually called Ron back a couple years later, trying to get re-hired.  He regretfully told her no, and then when he hung up, we had a good laugh over it.  Of all the former employees she's the last we'd take back. 

Now, my favorite.  Debbie.  She was a great employee, very outgoing, talked a lot, but a very hard worker.  She would tell you all about her grandkids while doing the dishes, or slicing tomatoes.  Did all the work and then some before she would sit down and rest.  One time someone ran a forklift into our soda storage area and knocked down dozens of cases of soda.  She stayed hours after quitting time, picking up the sodas, because she knew Ron would have to do it if she didn't.  Great lady.  I wish we had the financial to get her back.  She left when we closed the deli.  She was great with the vending machines, too.  Great customer service.  All around: great.  Her current boss is lucky to have her. 

Lest I leave you on a negative note.  Debbie made a hard job a lot easier.  The others were varying degrees of helpful but she was,without a doubt, my favorite.  I know an employer is not supposed to play favorites but it was very hard not to do so. 

I am pretty worried about Thursday but there's nothing I can do to prevent it.  I will just have to make sure Ron is presentable, and take him to work.  Awww, Biscuit is showing me his fat, white, tummy.  I need to pet it.  He lets me, when he's like that.  Torbie is the only one who doesn't like her tummy rubbed.  Baby Girl is good for a pet or two, if she's showing her tummy.  Only if it is showing, if they give the tummy, then I can take it.  Awww, and he's snoring.  How cute.  I have to say, my cats are adorable. 

And I finally got smart.  My hair was down my back, itching and hot.  Ron and I like it pretty warm in the house, in the summer.  That's fine if I have short hair.  Not so good when it's halfway down my back.  Itch.  Hot.  Ugh. 

So I finally got smart and did the thing I had been telling myself to do: got a hair clip out of the bathroom and pinned my hair up on top of my head.  MUCH better.  I can see why so many old-timey women wore their hair up.  It's a lot cooler. 

Although I am style impaired.  My stepmother never taught me how to do my hair.  She just kept it cut very short, so I never had anything to play with, growing up.  Don't get me wrong, it was a good hair style for someone very prone to crippling depressions.  Nothing to groom, really, just wash and a quick brush every day.  But once I grew it out, I'm like, what do I do with it?  I put it up in a clip, not really a bun, just "up".  I put it in a ponytail.  Occasionally, I wear it down.  But that's the extent of my style repertoire.  That might be a problem if I were back working in a formal office setting, but I've noted, even in a formal setting, a lot of women have a ponytail.  But I'd rather stay away from a formal office setting.  All the time and money spent on clothes to wear to work!  Having to wear walking shoes to work and then put on the "cute" shoes.  No thanks.  I would rather have a job where I can wear my steel toed shoes to work every day.   That's a good life goal. 

Actually, the ideal job I could wear my flip flops to work every day!  [grin]  But that wouldn't work. 

So, once I log off I will send the boss an email - agh, a TEXT about tomorrow.  I will watch some TV to get my mind of off things.  I will think about what I need at Walmart tomorrow, because the last couple times I have forgotten things I needed.  Biscuit is still so cute.  I'm going to hate to leave him when I get up. 

Torbie's off somewhere, God only knows.  Baby Girl is most likely in proximity to Ron, being Daddy's Girl.  I can wait on doing the litter tonight, but I need to do it tomorrow.  It will take my mind off of things. 

[sigh]  If you pray, I could use some prayer.  Nightmares, depression, dealing-with-Ron, and now this boss thing.  Oh, and the headaches.  Can't forget them. 

As always, I'm praying for you everyday.