Seriously? You're that stupid that if there are extra bottles of medication arriving you don't just put them on the side until the older bottles are completed?

Seriously? You're that dense you don't know to discuss questions or look on the bottles to see what gets taken with food and doesn't? I have to remind you of that after you've been doing my pills since September 2011 and it's eight months later - close to four times that multiplied - about reading the fucking labels?

Seriously? You've so little common sense you need to have me run out of medications before letting me know that I need to replenish? Or that if you don't know what a certain medication is you can look up from your desk to your iMac and do a search for what the medication is for (if I don't know or I'm unavailable to be asked) and/or call my doctor to find out if I need to continue it?

And so on.

Because, seriously? I'm more angry than I think he realizes. Really, very angry. I effectively tried to let him know that this might break our agreement for the final time. I said that besides walking the dogs this is one of the major reasons I started looking for a person to move in as more than a roommate (and much less than a lover, thank you very much).

And seriously I'm so angry. So so frustrated and angry because I _know_ he's not stupid or dense or any of it. And sometimes he's a great freaking caregiver/assistant. Like today, earlier, he handled taking me to the doctor very smoothly. And other than getting frustrated and thus angry (for him) and making the environment very tense I believe he does _try_ to do good.

But he (it seriously comes across as) seriously isn't listening. So I'm going to see how today goes. I'm beyond underwhelmed in some ways so I don't know what I hope...should I move to a one-bedroom? Pay somebody minimum wage to assist me and if I get IHSS than I can offer more and get truly trained help.

That's the thing...for a non-trained, non-referenced paid job where no rent, security, utilities, web service, and so forth are needed to be worried about so in some ways it's a great cocoon or starting place for an artist or stay at home part-time developer or programmer - whatever - to kick it.

I don't have tantrums. I don't start fights. I'll in fact do everything I can to avoid them. Yes, to my detriment. I'm thinking of moving to a one bedroom or maybe finding a two-bed in Vallejo next to my two wonderful friends. Some place with no stairs and where I can let the dogs out to play or pee or poo and with my scooper reach down and not need to worry about stressing my back.

Seriously, I want peace and I want quiet and I _need_ security. If my medicine needs food to be assimilated to combat my Addiaon's disease that should be crucial. If my medicine needs no food in order to combat my Hashimodo's than that also should be crucial. Don't know? Look at the bottle. Doesn't say? Look it up or best guess is it doesn't matter. But don't hand me my medicine container with them in the same box. That's just as bad as not giving me my medication at all.

Yeah...I think I need to ask him to leave or I need to find a situation that makes it so it's not even a question. Because I hate the idea of him thinking I'm throwing him out with no notice or good reasons. I wish I could find a different place to live. Single story with a yard, laundry hookups, pets happily desired, and 20-30 hours a month of help at $8/hour. Best friends near enough that hospital call is only a quick text or knock on the roof or wall away.

Unconditional pet love. It's the only thing in this world that cuts through the agony of the pain. Because I hurt and I'm unsure of what I can even take based on Will's serious screw up of my medications. I told him as soon as I saw it he was going to be frustrated by my bringing up this serious error. And he was. And he then proceeded to effectively talk over everything pertinent to the problem and how to try to fix at least the two most serious issues. It hurt to know I was right and my health needs aren't being met. I hope this afternoon goes better. Otherwise I'm going to have more than just frustration induced myoclonus. I'm going to have anger induced myoclonus possibly leading to me wanting a fight if only to push him into storming out...