I was thrilled when Torbie ate some treats before we left, and stopped worrying. She must have eaten something she caught. She later ate a hearty lunch when we got home from work.
I hate going to Sam's on a Sunday, but we didn't have a choice. Like last time, it was a cacophony of children screaming in spanish, adults yelling spanish at each other, kids running around screaming, etc. For all intents and purposes I was in mexico and not my beloved Houston.
It is not like that on Saturday, during business hours. I got everything and got ready to check out. Not one, but two, price checks as I waited to check out. Finally got rung up, paid, went over to Ron. I leave him at the tables. And a mexican woman had parked herself right next to his wheelchair, checking her cell phone, cart blocking all access to Ron.
I pushed my cart up as close as I could get to her without hitting her. Nothing. I said "EXCUSE ME" very loudly, and nudged her with the cart. Nothing. I was pushing the large flatbed cart. I let go of the handle, walked up to her, and pointed at Ron. "THAT IS MY HUSBAND" she looked up. "CAN YOU MOVE?" She did.
So I was already in a bad temper towards mexicans. Ron wanted a hot dog. God love him. It's a good thing I did because I had to deal with the little girl shrieking "Coca? Coca!" again and again wanting her damned soda. They gave her a quart sized drink - I couldn't believe it, a little 3 year old girl. She is going to be 400 pounds by the time she is 10.
One good thing about my parents, they strictly restricted soda intake for us. They only bought it for parties and barbeques. Not very often, and they also restricted other sugary drinks. So I am aghast to see small children lugging around quarts of "coca".
Had to wait forever on that family, they kept consulting with each other in spanish and adding things onto the order. Finally got Ron's hot dog. Couldn't wait to get out of there.
The driver comes, I have him take Ron out. I get into line and am finally getting some momentum on the cart, which is very heavy and difficult to push. A woman behind me starts screaming at me to stop. I do, thinking someone wasn't watching the baby and it got into my path.
NO. It is a grown woman, about Ron's age, standing there with her little shopping cart giving me a shit-eating "Made you stop" smirk. Totally blocking my path, because it is more important to go when you want than it is to wait 10 seconds on Heather with the flatbed. She's grinning at me, like she's proud she forced me to stop. I lost it.
"Are you BLIND?" I asked. She kept smirking and I realized she "didn't speak English". What a shock. I gestured at my cart, and then at her. "Ciego? ARE YOU BLIND?" I went back to my cart and shoved it again, as the woman's husband began exclaiming indignantly "She called you blind!" HA. Didn't think I spoke Spanish, did you? Ciego means blind in spanish. So I basically yelled at her in 2 languages.
DISGUSTED.
Now, I am aware the devil wants to make me a racist. I am sure that is a goal on his chart. I am well aware how EASY it would happen if I allowed it. I am also aware of how difficult it is to maintain a good view of humanity when I am surrounded by selfish acts and stupidity. How difficult it is to have a good view of mexicans when I shop at Sam's on a Sunday. I will be glad when Jack gets his truck fixed and we can go back to Saturdays. Ugh.
We went to work and did it all. We still have one machine acting up, but functional. Repairman is coming out tomorrow. Two other machines are "down", not sure when that repairman is coming. We only have to pay the first one.
We will need a soda delivery Thursday, which isn't fun, but we will do it. It's not like we have a choice, it is horrible going to Sam's and getting soda there, then bringing it into work.
I did not get a chance to do snacks, I must do them tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a busy day, we have to run various errands after work. I am OK with that, some things have to happen. But I will look forward to my next day off.
Ron already made the trips. We came home, a nice ride, another lonely old lady who wanted to sell us her dead husband's wheelchair. We said no thanks. If for no other reason, what fluids... before he died? When someone is in bad shape fluids... and things... no thanks. I would rather get a nice fresh wheelchair from Amazon. Besides, Ron's old wheelchair works fine and it has that handy seatbelt for those days when he needs it.
She tried to tell me we could get a "special wheelchair remodel" of our house "for free" (taxpayers pay it). No thanks. Ron can get around fine; I don't want social workers coming in, taking photos, getting our socials, and filing reports with federal and state agencies. No thanks.
We got in the house. I fed the cats, Torbie ate a hearty meal and let me pick her up for a hug (normally I do not pick up my cats as I have found most of them detest it). I felt even better about her. Ron had to work on some work-related matters, so he did that while I took a nap.
Torbie and Biscuit joined me. Biscuit laid down next to my leg and put his head on my foot. You can bet I didn't twitch that foot. Torbie slept on her pillow next to me, her body on the mattress and head on the pillow - super cute. I slept for about an hour. I had a lot of caffeine today so I didn't really "go under" but I did get some rest. My feet were tired so they got a break too (in spite of Biscuit using one for a pillow).
Ron was just asking about my brother (the good one, not the primary abuser step). I told Ron I haven't heard from him in ages. Ron suggested contacting my sister for an email address. I shot that down quickly.
She may read this so I will just say drama and games live around her. Also the whole "leave him and come be MY caregiver" thing that was a deal killer.
It is difficult to do, but when a loved one is in a difficult marriage it is better to say "I support you no matter your choices". My Dad has done a pretty good job of this. She did not, Ron was always a demon to her and she could never understand why I stayed.
Of course she left her husband when she found out he was autistic, so there's that. Everything I saw of him he tried to be a good husband, he wanted to help with her hoarding issues, etc. Too many books? Let me buy you a Kindle. Stuff like that - problem solving, which autistics are pretty good at. But no, she "had" to divorce him. There were a lot of other reasons I cut off contact.
I then reminded Ron of what happened after I cut off contact. At first it was only supposed to be a month or two, I forget how long. I just said, "I have some issues with the way you are doing things and I need a break for a month or two".
She blew up my cell phone to the extent I had to put her on my block list. Ron recorded a special "group mailbox" (I think) greeting telling her to please leave me alone. She sent me a package, I sent it back. Then she called my parents having vapors, trying to scare the hell out of them. They simply told her I was fine and to please leave me alone.
She finally got the message but it took forever with the phone calls, texts, etc. So no, I am not going to resume anything. I saw more than enough in the time after I asked for a TEMPORARY break. She couldn't respect it, or me. Her need for games and drama outweighed my request. I was very disrespected and no one had to tell me that.
So, my brother will just be AWOL until he pops up again. Her kids unfriended me at some point, I am OK with that. They probably felt I injured their mother, that's not how it went down but I hope they have good lives and she does not inflict her drama onto them.
Our mother lived in drama and was not consistently there for any of us. It is very easy to get into a pattern of seeking affection and approval - but not healthy. Anyway, I'm going to go take a walk.
Took it, came back to find Ron in the garage, confused. Got him to bed, made a lemonade, talked to my parents.
I am now about to eat a Lean Cuisine Chicken Parmesan dinner.
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