I had a very tough day yesterday. I was already in bad shape before my therapy appointment. I didn’t get the usual email that contains the link to the Zoom session. I logged into the waiting room and went in the back door, so to speak, and just clicked on the camera icon ten minutes after my appointment time. Lauren was there, waiting, worried that I was late.
I spent a lot of time crying. Angry. Frustrated. In a lot of pain. Feeling a bit helpless. We tried to focus on preparing for Rick’s trip out of town for work this weekend. We made a short list of things I shouldn’t do while Rick is away. Redecorating and freshening up the apartment is out. No lifting, no reaching, no standing on step stools. If I am in a lot of pain and am feeling a lot of fatigue, I should wash up in the bathroom sink, rather than showering. No cooking anything that requires using a knife. Basically trying to mitigate any possible risk.
Rick got the location of their deployment for the weekend. Lake Havasu. Five of them are loading up into a rented suv and driving the 5.5 hours there. Leaving at 7 a.m. tomorrow. If anything happens, he’ll be 5.5 hours away. My anxiety dictates that I plan for ANY possible scenario, just in case.
I am hoping Rick has at least a little fun. I mean, who wouldn’t at a popular lake on a holiday weekend, with his four favorite co-workers.
Lauren is worried about my feelings of hopelessness. Asked if I wanted to add a Friday session, just for good measure. She insisted that I try to complete one art project. A lot of relaxing and tv watching. But she warned about bed rotting. Urged me to get out of our bedroom a few times a day.
After therapy, I was EXHAUSTED. Rick picked up on it, and tried to comfort me as best he could. I tried laying down for a nap, to no avail. I decided to make dinner around 7. Baked chicken leg quarters basted with honey mustard dressing, fried home potatoes, and green peas. Canned peas are just about my favorite canned vegetables, equal to green beans. Dinner was super tasty. We watched an episode of Daredevil, and I was in bed around 8:30.
I managed to get to sleep easily, but was tossing and turning most of the night. I woke around 3:15 to use the bathroom, and was determined to get back to sleep, so I opened the new box of Benadryl, cursing as it fell to the floor, hoping it didn’t wake Rick. Downed two tabs with the still icy water in my leopard cold cup. I forced myself to go back to sleep, praying I would be able to snooze for a few more hours. I woke again at EIGHT, with Rick’s hand on my back.
I got up and made coffee. I let him sleep until 9, and then poked my head in to remind him that we needed to leave for the food pantry by 9:30. He playfully gasped and thrashed around on the bed.
We arrived at the pantry 15 minutes before it opened, and I took note of our assigned number on the sign in sheet, #55. We are almost always in the forties or fifties, except the time we arrived later and were #125. As per usual, the majority of clients waiting are elderly women. I think the local senior center or assisted living facility buses them in.
There is usually a troubled homeless person or two hanging out, causing a ruckus. Today, it was a disheveled man loudly addressing a younger woman standing there with another man. He was belligerently talking about her body. It was shocking. When the woman and her companion ignored him, he got louder. They moved, he moved. The woman stepped to the now open door and asked for help. INSTANTLY, she was taken inside, allowed to skip the line and get away from him. The director of the program came out and approached the offender with a sack lunch and curtly said to him, “Here is a lunch, get your things together. It’s time to go.” She left no room for argument.
I spent my time people watching, and looking through the door to the space with the protein freezer, making note of what is available and what seems to be depleting as clients moved through quickly. Our number was finally called, and I was excited to see what we would get. I was planning on getting easy options to eat this weekend, that don’t require a lot of cooking or prep. I moved through the space as fast as possible- cans of Dinty Moore beef stew, Progresso lasagna soup, tuna, a bag of colorful bell peppers, potatoes, purple onions, and a large bag of tangerines. When we got to the protein freezer, a worker appeared and started combining packages of Trader Joe’s chicken fajitas into two. SCORE!
The bread room had quite a few great options. I chose one of my favorite Trader Joe’s lemon basil pasta salad, a bake and serve chocolate Batard. We headed outside to the last table before the exit. I found a dented can of nacho cheese, and a large family size box of yogurt pouches. The worker was telling an elderly man that was with the senior group that he could not take an extra box of yogurt pouches because he had already received his number of items, and had left. There was no reasoning with the man. He kept hollering, “One more! One MORE!” The worker gently tried to tell him that there were still a lot of people that had not come through yet, and they deserved to have things to choose, but it was no use. The man took the box anyway, and walked back into the pantry to tell the director.
I felt bad for the worker. I am sure he deals with plenty of rude people. I would think that people would understand that things are set up in a certain way to ensure fairness for EVERYONE. As we walked to the exit gate, the group of seniors, about fifty of them stood together on the sidewalk, not budging. I said, “Excuse me.” No movement. I have nowhere to go. I look at Rick and he says it again, this time, louder. Again, no movement. So Rick began moving THROUGH them. Dirty looks aplenty were thrown our way.
I asked Rick if we could go to Dollar Tree for a couple of things. I wanted to get a couple of snacky things for the weekend. Tortilla chips to make nachos with the can of cheese and the chicken fajitas. Pretzels. I urged Rick to grab a few things for his road trip. He grabbed a couple of his energy drinks, and a box of Fiddle Faddle.
I made us reheated Dinty Moore for lunch with leftover white rice, and we watched a few episodes of the Good Place. His phone kept going off. He checked it once, and it was a video sent by his ex. Their children, at Passover, 15 years ago. But then the ding notification sound kept going off. I started to get upset. But I kept it to myself. He set the phone down and refrained from checking it again, for my sake.
This is what Amy does. She gets sad and sentimental and bombards Rick with texts, looking for attention. He knows how I feel about it.
I decided to take a nap to escape the bubbling anger. I didn’t want to take it out on him. I turned on meditation music and fought like hell to doze, but it simply wasn’t happening. Rick cleaned the kitchen and washed the dishes.
We took a walk a bit ago, the sun was shining, there was a light breeze. We sat at the bench outside the historic stained glass studio and had a couple of cigarettes.
I am going to make a smoked sausage skillet for dinner. We’ll watch more Daredevil, and finish off the Good Place series. Rick has to get up before dawn to meet up with the co-workers at seven.
I will miss him, but I think a break from each other will be nice.
I have to package up orders to be picked up by our mail carrier tomorrow. Just as I thought I had three packages to attend to, another notification! A bundle of four lots of girl’s clothing sold to a repeat customer. SEVENTY dollars! Twenty four hour total is around 210 dollars! The universe is certainly smiling on me. That money is going straight to our utility bill and my phone plan.
I am happy that I have been able to contribute to our household in meaningful ways this month. The only downside is that I am very quickly running out of inventory. I am already looking to source more, hopefully for free. If Rick finds more consistent work, I can use the money I am making as capital to go to places like the Goodwill bins to get more.
Okay, I am off to make dinner.
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