I made a special point of getting dressed and going to check the mail. Because Ron can't.
I found an invoice from our insurance company, they want $909. That's not bad, considering. I went back home to tell Ron about it.
"Don't bother me, I'm sick".
I blew up at him and told him, if he was SO sick, he should see a doctor. "Oh, I'm not THAT sick, I just overate at the chicken place" He ate a thigh, and about 1/4 cup of red beans and rice. Now he is lying around in bed moaning he ate too much.
He told me to bug off and I left. I put the invoice in a safe place. The last thing we want to do is lose our coverage. We have a longevity and a no claim discount.
Ron called me to go back to the bedroom. On Saturday, he chose not to do our supply run because he was lazy. He said he would go Tuesday.
But the guy he was counting on had his phone turned off, so clearly unreliable. He called Chuck to take us tomorrow. We desperately need this inventory and we really need to stock it, or we are going to get (formal) complaints.
Ron forgets, all it takes is one phone call from the "right" person and we are out of there.
Anyway, I went back. Ron ignored me, playing around with something. I finally told him I was going to leave if he didn't talk to me. He told me was still "sick" (from "overeating" a single piece of chicken?), and "couldn't" work tomorrow. I told him the chicken would digest by tomorrow and we needed the inventory. He said he was sick.
I told him if he was really sick, he needed to see a doctor. He blew up at me over that and accused me of being "uncaring, unsympathetic" and why did it matter anyway. I told him I had empty vending machines, and reminded him no one ever calls about an empty soda machine, it's always a complaint about snacks.
And, between us, that makes ME look bad. Not that he cares.
He said he had called me back to "get permission" because he thought I was a "loving, caring" (read: enabling) wife and would "understand" he couldn't work tomorrow.
He was in for a big shock if he thought that.
He kept saying he couldn't help unload the truck. He really thinks he will still be "full" 12 hours from now. Now, if he is, he has gastroparesis, and they have medication for it, but he would have to see a doctor for it.
I told him I unloaded the truck by myself when he was in the hospital, and if he was really that lazy he could sit there in the wheelchair while I did all the work myself. He said he will do that.
But at least I got him to agree to go on the supply run and go to work. He kept saying he hated work, he didn't make any money. I asked him what was in his wallet? He shut up over that.
I am just so frustrated. This is a man who used to work 16 hour days, stocking, doing the books, running the deli, filling vending machines. Now he just wants to lie in bed all the time.
Maybe I need to talk to him. He used to talk all the time about how he wished he would hit rock bottom, so he could go live [in assisted living], lie around in bed all day, and "watch" TV. I am going to talk to him and tell him, either you are living with me, in this house, and working, or you leave me and the cats and go move into your precious nursing home. But you won't come back, if you don't like it you will just have to live there.
I am sick of him expecting me to enable him. What did I EVER do to make him think I would be OK with empty vending machines for a whole week?
I don't care what he does in his personal time, if he doesn't want to do anything, lie around and sleep, I can understand that. I believe he suffers from depression and that is very common. But I will not tolerate him [censoring] around with work.
No way.
I found an invoice from our insurance company, they want $909. That's not bad, considering. I went back home to tell Ron about it.
"Don't bother me, I'm sick".
I blew up at him and told him, if he was SO sick, he should see a doctor. "Oh, I'm not THAT sick, I just overate at the chicken place" He ate a thigh, and about 1/4 cup of red beans and rice. Now he is lying around in bed moaning he ate too much.
He told me to bug off and I left. I put the invoice in a safe place. The last thing we want to do is lose our coverage. We have a longevity and a no claim discount.
Ron called me to go back to the bedroom. On Saturday, he chose not to do our supply run because he was lazy. He said he would go Tuesday.
But the guy he was counting on had his phone turned off, so clearly unreliable. He called Chuck to take us tomorrow. We desperately need this inventory and we really need to stock it, or we are going to get (formal) complaints.
Ron forgets, all it takes is one phone call from the "right" person and we are out of there.
Anyway, I went back. Ron ignored me, playing around with something. I finally told him I was going to leave if he didn't talk to me. He told me was still "sick" (from "overeating" a single piece of chicken?), and "couldn't" work tomorrow. I told him the chicken would digest by tomorrow and we needed the inventory. He said he was sick.
I told him if he was really sick, he needed to see a doctor. He blew up at me over that and accused me of being "uncaring, unsympathetic" and why did it matter anyway. I told him I had empty vending machines, and reminded him no one ever calls about an empty soda machine, it's always a complaint about snacks.
And, between us, that makes ME look bad. Not that he cares.
He said he had called me back to "get permission" because he thought I was a "loving, caring" (read: enabling) wife and would "understand" he couldn't work tomorrow.
He was in for a big shock if he thought that.
He kept saying he couldn't help unload the truck. He really thinks he will still be "full" 12 hours from now. Now, if he is, he has gastroparesis, and they have medication for it, but he would have to see a doctor for it.
I told him I unloaded the truck by myself when he was in the hospital, and if he was really that lazy he could sit there in the wheelchair while I did all the work myself. He said he will do that.
But at least I got him to agree to go on the supply run and go to work. He kept saying he hated work, he didn't make any money. I asked him what was in his wallet? He shut up over that.
I am just so frustrated. This is a man who used to work 16 hour days, stocking, doing the books, running the deli, filling vending machines. Now he just wants to lie in bed all the time.
Maybe I need to talk to him. He used to talk all the time about how he wished he would hit rock bottom, so he could go live [in assisted living], lie around in bed all day, and "watch" TV. I am going to talk to him and tell him, either you are living with me, in this house, and working, or you leave me and the cats and go move into your precious nursing home. But you won't come back, if you don't like it you will just have to live there.
I am sick of him expecting me to enable him. What did I EVER do to make him think I would be OK with empty vending machines for a whole week?
I don't care what he does in his personal time, if he doesn't want to do anything, lie around and sleep, I can understand that. I believe he suffers from depression and that is very common. But I will not tolerate him [censoring] around with work.
No way.
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