Rosa got to experience her first military MRE today. A few years ago, I bought several large cases of the meals in case I ever became homeless again – spent a fortune. They have proved perfect for my little jaunts into the woods to go camping although they are rather heavy. They are even self-heating.
"This is really good," Rosa said with her mouth full of spaghetti and meat sauce.
"I told you you would like them," I replied.
I spent the rest of the afternoon unloading my car as Rosa helped. When my schizophrenia strikes, I get it into my head that homelessness is the only solution to my predicament. Hey, I know it's crazy, but I do have schizophrenia if you remember.
"Where were you gonna go?" Rosa asked me of my voluntary homelessness.
"Back out to the woods where no one can find me and force medications upon me," I replied. "I can be crazy and free and not have family watch me constantly."
I told Rosa how my father tries to punish me when I get ill or don't take my medications. He is a total control freak.
"You two's relationship is fucked up," Rosa replied.
"I know," I said. "I usually just ignore the bullshit and controlling nature of my father, but will speak freely when I don't feel well. It drives him crazy. I sometimes wonder who actually is the person with a mental illness in our relationship."
We finally unloaded my car and I came in to write this as Rosa settled down to watch Court TV.