I could have gone anywhere today, but I only had one request.
I had used not only my cat food, but some of my reserve. I always have a reserve, there is nothing worse than a hungry cat and no money to feed them. Thank God those days are LONG gone. And I have always bought cat food before I bought anything for "the people".
So I asked Ron to take me to the pet store. We make the trip to the Kolache Factory, we like eating there anyway and they have a nice accessible bathroom. They aren't cold like Starbucks (emotionally and physically). I buy some food, leave Ron with it, and walk over to the pet store.
Our ride to get there was so late Ron delayed his ride to go home. I told him I could "do it" quick but he had it in his head that "we" needed more time. So he was already in a foul mood.
I bought him a Diet Dr Pepper. I noticed there was a very tall, slow, man with an extreme cringing manner sitting at the next table. I asked Ron to "keep it down". I didn't mention the man to him but I was worried about Ron's anger freaking the poor man out. Ron barked at me, the man flinched. I felt terrible and figured it would just be better if I left.
I walked over to the store. They had a tremendous deal on kitty condos, but I already have 2. I want to buy a "burrow bed" for the cats but other than that they are fine for cat furniture. I looked for the scratching boxes, couldn't find them. I guess they really are done selling them - and Baby Girl loves hers. I have 2 more in the garage, though.
Then I looked at the adoption cats. They had a beautiful calico who reminded me of Torbie, and some nice looking, sleepy, black cats. I love black cats. I didn't try to get them up because I am not an adopter. It wouldn't be fair to the cats.
I put the cat food in the cart, after checking the sell by dates. Good codes. I paid and heard all about the cashier's mother's, special needs cat. I walked back to Ron with the bag of cat food on my shoulder (a little less than 20 pounds total).
I got back to Ron and he was in an even worse mood. I took him to the bathroom and bought a kolache. He was surly and argumentative. It came to a crux when I bought a BBQ kolache. It was delicious. Ron loves BBQ. So I offered him a bite. He started up about "my stomach" (a favorite subject of his lately), how I am so fat, ruled by "my stomach", a slave to my urges, no discipline like "he" has, etc.
Cheap trick, using my weight against me. I might actually care about what he said, but when I was thin he used to say things like "Your body is thin but your mind is fat". He would probably just go after my illness or the brain damage, how I am "so defective" and he "deserves better, but has to settle for you."
You get the idea. And I'm sitting there thinking how I'm going to put this in my blog, and the music is playing on the overhead speakers. "You'd Better Be Good to Me" comes on the speakers.
https://youtu.be/MCTleY5xuOw
I stopped Ron. I used the words "attacking me" "Ugly verbal" and "respect". He got worse. I finally lost my temper (up to this point I had been pretty calm) - and said "Ron, listen to the music. You'd better be good to me. I'm all you've got!" I reminded him he has driven off every other person in his life. He got very upset.
He started abusing me again and I told him calmly, if he kept it up, I was going to walk across the store and sit down at another table, where I wouldn't hear him. He began to sputter. Then he called paratransit and shouted at someone on the phone, hung up, and brooded.
Our ride came on time, I took Ron out and got him loaded the way he likes to board a cab. He likes me to put his hand on the grip so he can pull himself up out of the wheelchair. We had a straight trip home.
When I got home a young man was in my yard filling in the dirt around my water meter. They gave us new meters a little over a month ago but did not fill the dirt in around the meter. They just put up caution tape. Today they had taken it down and smoothed the dirt so it looked very nice. They were even getting ready to lay sod. I was impressed.
I got Ron in the house, and the cat food. I took a nap with Torbie and Biscuit.
When I came home Torbie had tucked herself into one of my dresser drawers. It isn't even all the way open, but she looked nice and cozy in there, and didn't have much trouble emerging. She got into bed with Biscuit and me.
I had a pretty good nap for a couple of hours until the #6 brood, all six children, came out and played loudly by my bedroom wall. I haven't heard them much (except for parties) since their father built the playroom on the back of the house, but his workers are still (!) working on the bathroom remodel - going on 3 weeks now. Had he hired citizens, they would have gotten the job done in a few days. Anyway, I think the kids were bothering the workers so the kids were forced outside. The youngest, a little girl, was proclaiming something at a scream as she ran around the backyard, she kept repeating the same phrase again and again, it got very tedious. It was Spanish, of course, so I have no idea what it meant.
I did find it VERY sad, the minute the kids went into the yard, my cat (I don't know which one) came in from the catio. They went at it for about 15 minutes, just long enough to ensure I was FULLY awake, then they went back in the house.
Well, I'm up now. I got up and ran a load of laundry. I need to put it in the dryer. Done.
But I was thinking about Ron and friends while I was unloading the washer. When I met Ron, he had a lot of "friends" he had met on a telephone dating service. The women all stopped calling Ron after I moved in.
Ron remained on the dating service, doing something he termed "Dr Problem". He liked it when people told him about their problems and then he would try to "fix" them. But the honest truth was everyone liked him to listen to them bitch and moan, but didn't want to take any constructive steps to "fix" their lives. And a verbal abuser giving advice on relationships...
All it meant for me was Ron was on a dating service, talking to strange women who confided in him. At best, that was happening. He was also paying for the service. He worked about 11 hours a day with his commute. So when he got home he would spend a couple of hours on the phone with the women ("I ate at work"), totally ignoring me, and then go to sleep on the couch.
You may wonder why Ron thinks he can get away with treating me badly, well, the answer is he has gotten away with it, now I am rewriting the rule book and he doesn't like it.
Now, he doesn't want to invest in friends. He sees them as too much work. He has a couple of people he can call if something happens, including my aunt, but the list is pretty short. He doesn't have the patience, the will to remember details (possibly the ability to remember the details), or the willingness to invest time just to see how someone's doing.
And me? I had made some friends at work and brought one home, she wanted me to do her nails. I did, badly. I don't do nails very well.
After she left Ron told me a story about how he could get any woman he wanted. I scoffed at him and said a real friend would never cheat with him. His response to that was to tell me a story about how his girlfriend dared him to get underwear from a woman they both knew. He did and ended up leaving his girlfriend for the other woman.
If that wasn't enough, one female friend at work told me she wanted to take the relationship to a sexual level. It was California, what can I say? I declined with some shock, she never contacted me again and began avoiding me at work.
I don't have close friends because how do you explain the complicated mess of my marriage to someone? I can't have that encroach on work, so that rules out the major place I go with Ron outside the house. Church didn't work out, the pastor keeps telling me I "don't need mental illness medication".
But I have you to listen, at least, and I appreciate that. I hope I am honestly relating what is going on even if it makes me look bad.
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