"My fat wife"

Well, looks like the honeymoon is over.  Ron blew up at me today because I refused to help him bring his alcohol in the house.  He kept talking about how it was my mother's fault. 

Now, you can say a lot about my mother, but don't talk about her.  I finally blew up and told him it had absolutely nothing to do with my mother, and everything to do with him acting like an *sshole when he has a blackout, abusing me (verbally and physically), hurting himself, and keeping me up all night. 

We went back and forth for a while, with me shooting down all of his justifications.  My favorite was him saying he "needed" it "like I need my medications".  I told him my medicine was prescribed by a doctor.  Then he tried to play the caregiver card "You made my legs hurt because I had to get my vodka by myself."  Well, that's a personal choice. 

Ron kept saying he had to drink.  I wish he could have heard himself, really heard himself.  I think it would have brought him to his knees, had he really heard what he was saying.  I told him no one had to drink alcohol. 

He said he couldn't control his reactions when he drinks, it was all a big crapshoot, he might (abuse me) he might not, but he was helpless to control it.  I said if he really had that much trouble controlling it he should stop. 

I didn't state the obvious, that any man who loved me would do whatever it took to keep from hurting me, including abstain from alcohol. 

I told him I would have likely had a lot of trouble with alcohol, if I had gotten into it, but I made a choice not to indulge.  I suggested he make the same choice (I knew it wouldn't do any good).  That's when he started up with the personal attacks. 

Now he's on my weight.  "I'm a big embarrassment, Ron and his 'fat wife'"  And more attacks. 

So, my day up until that point. 

I woke up at 8, brushed my teeth, fed Biscuit.  Biscuit is currently lying on my foot.  He's becoming very cuddly these days.  In spite of all the emotional crap at the house, he has become a loving, normal, cat. 

Baby Girl I think was damaged by Ron's drinking, emotionally, and Bubba (our other cat, and her putative "father")'s death.  She is pretty weird but a sweet cat. 

Torbie is very cuddly on her terms, but prefers to spend her days loafing on a shelf in the cat condo, these days. 

Good, I have my music up loud enough I can't hear Ron. 

I took my shower and bagged up some candy, did my Bible study but not the prayer portion yet (I want to get a little more calm and centered before I do that). 

Our ride was very late.  And she was talking on the phone, which is strictly forbidden.  It was clear it was some kind of relationship drama.  Now, technically they are not allowed to talk on the phone when they have a client in the vehicle, so she stood outside the vehicle, wasting time, and talking on the phone.  Ron began shouting at her and she finally got in. 

Some conflict there, get off the phone - how do you know I was on the phone?  I told her I saw her.  Oh, OK, finally hangs up and takes us to our destination.  Ron called dispatch and told them she was talking on the phone, that very well may get her into trouble. 

But if your work has a no phone policy, and will fire you for using one, it's pretty dumb to try to make up an argument or whatever with a client around. 

We got to our destination, a Kolache Factory next to a pet food store.  I left Ron there and went to buy cat food and flea medicine. 

I bought all that and called Ron on my way back.  He was very agitated, he couldn't find his ($418) yearly paratransit pass.  If you lose it, you have to buy another.  By the time I got back to him he was nearly in hysterics. 

I saw it on the floor next to his wheelchair and gave it to him.  He didn't even say thank you, he was too busy yelling at God for "scaring him".  This is the second time in as many years that Ron has lost his pass.  I might rethink where I'm keeping it, myself, but I didn't say anything. 

I put the (11 pound) bag of cat food on the table and got some kolaches, took my pills.  I got Ron a steak and egg but he didn't like it.  Then I got him a bacon and cheese and he liked that. 

Our ride home came on time, she was nice.  There was another client on board, he appeared to have no legs (I think he had a prosthetic on one leg).  His wife had a big bag of clothes from a new retail store. 

I guess the social security check came in and the first thing she thinks is "let's buy a lot of clothes at this expensive store".  I would have gone to Walmart (had good luck with their clothes) or a thrift store myself.  Especially if I was on a budget.  But it's not my money. 

He was very nosy, looking around our neighborhood, commenting.  I felt it was very rude. 

Speaking of rude, when we got home the driver lined up the lift (in the back of the van) with our driveway.  It meant the vehicle hung over into #6's space a few feet, but still plenty of room to get in and out.  #6 kept triggering the honk feature on his car alarm, trying to get us to move.  It wasn't accidental, he has done this before when other large vans drop us or pick us up.  And he wasn't trying to leave, he was just being a creep. 

And a hypocrite, at that.  More than once one of his "buddies" has parked in front of my driveway, COMPLETELY blocking it for long periods of time.  When we asked him to move it, nicely, he basically told us to f*ck off, he would move it when he felt like moving it. 

And now he's all upset about us blocking 2 feet of the side of their driveway.  When they aren't even leaving.  Hypocrite. 

We went in the house.  I decided to "poison" (administer the flea medicine) the cats later on, before bed.  I took a nap.  Biscuit joined me, see what I mean?  He is a little shy with strangers but very cuddly with us. 

Ron kept asking me to make it warmer in the house, he was cold.  I reminded myself he is anemic.  He was finally happy when I got it up to 90.  It's going to be an interesting night for me, trying to sleep in that, but I've done it before when times were tough financially and we couldn't afford a high electric bill. 

I don't see why he doesn't just get a blanket.  I did get him to take his clothes off so they wouldn't get covered in cat hair, in bed.  He has a very bad habit of sleeping in his clothes, with the cats, and getting cat hair all over everything.  Then I look like a bad caregiver because he looks bad, so it must be my fault. 

But I did get him to take his clothes off.  Tomorrow we need to call the doctor and ask about the liver ultrasound.  I don't think the request went in to the hospital, because they haven't called us to do it. 

Ron doesn't know this will involve rubbing over his abdomen.  It is going to be very uncomfortable for him.  I wish I could work up more sympathy for him right now but I'm out. 

Ron is still muttering, and drinking, in the kitchen.  I hope he "lets" me sleep tonight. 

And I finally cleaned the litter boxes.  Now I'm good for a while.  They're all topped off, too.  I also cleaned the washer, used one of my tablets and ran it on the "Clean" cycle.  All done, lid up, smells great now. 

The last thing I need is a stinky washer.