Saturday

Last night, Ron asked me what I would like to do today.  I told him, go to the bank and convert the $1's into something a little more suitable for traveling.  He said if we were going to the bank, he wanted to take a jar of quarters (aka "the backbreaker").  I said that was fine.  I just wanted to get it done, as the bank was closed on Monday and we had a lot of things "going" on Monday anyway. 

In agreement, he made the trip.  I slept pretty good last night and got up early, did everything we needed.  Ron was happy to find all the clean clothes.  I joked he had a magic floor, he put his dirty clothes on the floor and then went to his chair, magically clean.  He thanked me, sincerely, for doing his laundry.  I thanked him for buying the washer and dryer. 

A couple minutes later, he was in a sour mood, complaining about me "forcing" him, etc.  He agreed to go, I didn't see the problem.  I can't force Ron to do anything.  Something I often try to explain online to the "why-don't-you-stop-him-drinking" crowd.  He was in a very foul mood by the time the driver arrived (pretty much on time). 

She had a really good attitude and didn't let Ron's moodiness upset her balance.  She had a great response to him, not cajoling, not pitying, but "OK that's your mood then".  I have seen that perspective in some nurses that have had to deal with Ron at Bad Times and I have always admired it. 

We got loaded and off we went.  We had a stop on the way.  I moaned when we entered the apartment complex and then turned right.  It was her, that horrible woman who shouted at the driver, Ron, AND me (me?  Why me?  I hadn't even said anything aside from "I hear this is a really nice apartment complex") one day, bitched all the way to the destination, and tried to call in a complaint on the driver.  She was AWFUL. 

I have to explain a little paratransit policy before I continue.  Say your pickup is 1:30.  The driver arrives at 1:20.  You have 10 minutes until your pickup, then an additional 5 after.  If they arrive at 1:30, you have five minutes.  Later than your pickup, 5 minutes.  There is a computer that calls, as well, when the driver is 10 minutes out so everyone has plenty of time to get out to their ride.  They really try to make it easy for you, eh? 

So, this woman will only come out 5 minutes past her pickup, every time.  The first time, after her pickup, but not quite at the 5 minute mark, the driver backed the cab out of the parking space to turn it around.  She thought he was leaving and came running out (thought she was disabled?) and went off on him. 

Today, same thing, waited until 1 minute until "leaving time" before she came out.  I felt the driver was rather ingratiating with her, sucking up to her and massaging her ego.  But she wasn't as angry when she boarded.  She sat as far away from Ron as possible, Ron even made a joke about it.  She told him (again) "Don't speak".  Like he's a dog.  That pushed my button but I throttled it back.  She was pretty awful but not abusive this time (due to the driver's oiling).  We dropped her first, which was fine.  She was on the way anyway. 

I was happy to get away from her and practically cheered when the driver shut the door behind her.  I deal with enough at home, I don't need it on my transit, too. 

We got to work right around breaktime.  Now, at work, to my understanding most of the people work on machines.  They cannot leave the machine unless it is a designated break time.  One of those breaks is 8 AM.  Someone decided they were going to mop the entire doorway right at breaktime, and got upset when I came in with Ron. 

It's breaktime.  Of course you are going to have a lot of traffic in the doorway!  Come on, you're not new, you know how this works.  I got the change and put it in the change bag. 

Like I told Ron today, I want all the stuff in the same place, deposit slips, extra deposit bags, and the actual change jar.  I keep it in a large zippered bag and it works well.  I had that, Ron's backpack, and his coat in another zippered bag because it was cold out.  A lot of stuff! 

About pickup time, I took him out.  Our driver arrived right on time.  She had driven over a dozen miles to come get us.  She was a big woman and I felt bad about what came next. 

Ron asked to ride in the back compartment.  Securing Ron in the compartment involves a lot of bending and reaching.  She had a little trouble. 

But we got to the bank safely (at one point, she had to jam on the brakes, but Ron was secure).  I got Ron inside.  We did what we normally do when we have a change deposit, got in line immediately for that.  We made the change deposit. 

Then we (I) counted the money I took out of the vending machines at work (our most popular ones) and counted it.  I added that to the money I had taken out the other day. 

Then we got back in line and did our business with that.  After we finished, Ron called Arturo and we went home. 

Ron went for his vodka.  He had a couple of inches left in his last bottle.  I think, as part of his struggle, he doesn't want to buy any more until he has to buy more or run out.  I don't pretend to understand.  If I were the drinker I would always have several bottles at a time, but that's me. 

Ron called the liquor store and they said they had a case of vodka.  Ron called Arturo and he did a liquor run, bought it and then brought it to Ron.  I had nothing to do with the transaction, Ron paid him, Ron opened the garage door, everything. 

I just sat there in my chair eating leftover pizza and taking my antidepressants. 

After he got the alcohol, I told Ron he should call the guy at the liquor store back, and thank him, for his help.  Ron was a little reluctant but he did it, and the guy was so thrilled Ron was glad he had done it. 

People in retail (I am) love positive feedback.  Generally the only thing we hear out of a customer's mouth is a demand or complaint. 

Then I took a nap.  I had Biscuit and Torbie, then Torbie left and I just had Biscuit.  I slept with him until 2 and woke up with a headache.  I took something and got up. 

I'm up, Ron's not.  The handyman is here.  After he leaves I'm going to trim Ron's beard.  It is pretty wild right now.  He doesn't like it.  Being blind, he can't see the big bushy beard trend at least here in Texas.  So I try to keep it trimmed down to half an inch.  He likes that. 

He has psoriasis (in addition to everything else) so his face will get "mad" and erupt in redness and flakes if he shaves down to the skin.  But, with our line of work, it doesn't matter if he has a short beard. 

Tomorrow I will finish most of the packing.  For instance, Ron wants to bring his magnets so he has them for relief if he wants.  Deodorant, hair brush, and cell phone charger will all have to wait until Monday morning but I can do socks and underwear type things. 

I'll be glad when this is all over.