I drove for three and a half hours yesterday.
I deliver today at noon.
It's cold here this morning.
Do I sound BORED?
I hope this isn't how things are going to be with this company.
I mean, I should welcome all the free time, but dilly-dallying down the road is a bit tiring.
Well, I wasn't going to go to the customer loc last night and park overnight on a street in Metro LA. Mostly, because I don't have a sign that says, "Rob me, I don't have a gun!" Not that I'm saying M
Last night I was in Weed and tonight I'm at the T/A in Santa Nella to get a shower. I'm beginning to offend thyself and when that happens you know you stink!
Needless to say, I AM BORED!
I drove for six hours today. That's all.
If I was at my old company, I'd be delivering early tomorrow morning, not Monday at Noon.
The good thing about not being rushed is I have time to think about the two story endings I have to come up with. Today as I drove I worked on Tim and the Corsair.
Tonight I'm in Portland, OR, because I don't need to be in the LA area until noon Monday. My trailer is somewhere here in the yard.
I'm going to leave tomorrow morning, early, early, like around 4 or 5 because I don't want to have to deal with commuters flocking into Portland and wherever else to go to work. I'm lucky, I take work with me.
Already I like being back on the road. I get a very strong sense of calm and I know why. It's because I'm away from home. I miss Bonita, but it's the
Well, I've had it.
I tried being a hostler. Honest, I tried, but 58 year old bodies cannot pretend they're only 35, which is bad.
I tried delivering groceries, but that was just as physical, plus the joys of pulling doubles through a city, which is bad.
So, starting Thursday I'm back to long haul; or, as they call it in my new company, line haul, which is good.
Up and down the I-5 corridor, which is kinda good.
Supposedly, I'll be home every week, which is good. Als
When I got home earlier this evening from a subdued dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant and two stops at different grocery stores, I started on an entry complaining about how depressed I was. I'm still very depressed, but that doesn't matter right now.
I watched a movie.
Oh, god, we all watch movies, I can hear you saying. So what!
I don't watch that many movies, especially something new. I just don't like movies, sorry.
I watched "Memory of a Killer". It was in Dutch and F
Okay, this was my last night as hostler on the Perishible Dock. That was a given.
Part of my job, the first part, has to be accomplished by 19:00 every night because that is when the Grocery Dock shuts down, is to move the combination trailers, those that have perishible and grocery, from the perishible dock to the grocery dock. I have to do this every night.
Well, tonight the Perishible Dock was behind. They were delayed. For whatever reason, they were behind.
The Grocery Supervisor
I finished the short story I will probably submit for the Fall Anthology. Worked on it all night. Actually, I went a bit beyond all night, but I felt I needed to finish it so I could submit it. (Does it sound like I haven't had enough sleep?)
It's sort of a prequel to my Summer Anthology story. This story is about the First Watcher and kind of everything leading up to the establishment of Glandar.
What I like about the new story is I was able to bring in the 'xrsc and other members of th
I guess LOst Cause started this, then Ieshwar got into the act, and then I said I'd do one, too.
But first, a word from our sponsor:
I was working on Tim and the Corsair tonight getting things ready for a totally remodelled ending and caught myself laughing at the jokes. Do you ever do that? Can you go back and read something you wrote a year ago and still laugh at the jokes? Or, is it just me?
Anyway, I think I've got the ending fairly well figured out, but not totally scoped out. B
Man, was I drunk last night, or what?
I haven't felt that bad in years. And, this morning!
I quit over-indulging for what happened this morning. I was sick. My stomach had a hole in it that still hasn't completely healed.
Anyway, that didn't stop me from getting Chapter 5 of The Pastel Cowboy posted on eFiction. I was hesitant in posting this chapter because it delves into a rather despicable area, but when I originally wrote this for Nifty I needed to get rid of a couple characters
Well, I made it through the first four days of work and everyone is happy I'm there and picking up on the complexities of the job. It certainly isn't an easy job, not complicated, just lots of responsibilty. I guess the biggest boo-boo is putting the wrong trailers in a set and the driver not checking his load. Don't even want to go there.
So, I went in this afternoon to tell the boss I wanted to keep doing what I'm doing. He wasn't there, but the day dispatcher said she'd heard I was doing
I drive a Goat.
Well, that's what they call it.
Doesn't look like a goat.
Doesn't smell like a goat.
Doesn't sound like a goat.
It drives like a truck with attitude.
The one I have to drive is the local piece of shit, but it's still a Goat.
Found out I still can't back in a straight line, even with a Goat to help.
My Goat pulled a bunch of trailers last night and, then, there wasn't much of anything to do.
My trainer, who also drives a Goat, said that about on
I'm practicing staying up late because tomorrow night I really start my new job on the night shift 5 PM to 3:30 AM. Ten hours plus a half hour for lunch.
Luckily, I'll only have to do this four days a week. That raises a problem, though. Do I return to "normal" during the three off days, or do I continue my nighttime schedule?
I'm opting to become a night person. A lover of lunar light, ever searching for those airy beings who disappear in daylight.
For the foreseeable future, I'll b
Nothing like a good dose of alcohol to deaden the gloomies, but that isn't a solution, been there, done that.
I finished orientation a day early. I was the only person in orientation and, since I'm going to be working out of the Puyallup Yard, I didn't need to know a lot of the stuff.
So, I'm home and I'm wasted, again. Too much Tequila, again.
Bonita missed me.
I'm not certain the wife did too. You can never tell about her. She has so many memories of her childhood, I can't tell
I've been slowly sliding downhill. There's a lot of stress in my life right now, my mind responds by getting depressed. It didn't work this way before, but it does now. Such is life.
The creative juices aren't flowing as freely, which is to be expected. I'm on a downhill slide. Such is life.
Tonight, I go to Portland for orientation tomorrow. The wife gives me a sad look. I'm going away from her. She'll be alone. She's very much like a little kid. All of her stories, remembrances of happ
I just finished Chapter 18 of The Pastel Cowboy and I reached the point in time where I'm supposed to be. So many things are afoot right now, but I can't tell you anything, so I won't.
I've been following through on Lugh's suggestion and putting more of my stuff up on eFiction. I want to put up my Kiel's Story/Tim and the Corsair series, but I want to seriously edit it before doing so. It is a bit much with all the violence, suicides, and constant talk about rape. I requested the assistance
I just finished Chapter 17 of The Pastel Cowboy. I wish I could tell you what happened, but I can't because it would ruin everything, literally. (Was that a pun?)
What can I tell you?
Well, nothing, actually because what happened was so unexpected. It was another one of those creative moments when everything comes together and out pops a plot twist. And, let me tell you right now, it was one heck of a plot twist. It certainly surprised the heck out of me.
See?
It's like winning P
Well, we made it.
It was a long haul, but with our son helping with the driving, we made it in 16 hours. That's a bit long, but we did stop to see Great Salt Lake, the rocket exhibit at ATK, have lunch in Mountain Home, Idaho, and dinner in Troutdale, Oregon.
It feels good to be home.
Per request from Lugh I posted Chapter 1 of "The Pastel Cowboy" to eFiction. I don't know where this will lead, but I'm willing to follow at least for awhile.
Right now, I'm waiting for a call from
Today, I hit 58 on the annual counter, 6 years further than my father.
Today, I quit long haul driving mostly refrigerated loads across America.
Today, I finished getting Chapter 1 of The Pastel Cowboy read to put up on eFiction. I haven't put it up before because I thought it was a bit much for GA, but it seems some at GA want it, so I've acquiesed to their demands. I'll have it up as soon as I get home or Wednesday, whichever comes first.
Today, I finished the second section of Cha
I'm on my last load for this company, headed for the barn, as the saying goes.
I'm sitting in the first rest area on I-80 in Iowa thinking I shouldn't be writing this, but should be eating my breakfast and getting down the road. After all it's past 0800 and my 10 hours were up at 0700.
I'm writing like I'm crazy, again. Chapter 16 (5,500+ words) was done in one day. Chapter 17 may take three, depending on how I do on the road.
I'm definitely not dropping as fast as usual. I'm still a
I wish I could figure out how to make money with this. There should be some way to get this thing to be productive.
I hit my peak a couple days ago.
I'm still pumping out the words on The Pastel Cowboy, finished Chapter 15 and got it out the door. Chapter 16 is muddling right now. I need to make a time shift. I need to be a couple months forward, but I also need to use the gun introduced a few chapters back, get two boys back together, get two other people (note how I don't say who) toge
I'm spending the night in Southeastern Minnesota, which is a lot like Iowa without all those Iowans. Tomorrow its on to Wisconsin for a delivery and a pick up and then on to Upstate New York for delivery on Saturday morning. I hate going to New York because New England is so close. I've heard horror stories about taking a big truck into New England and one of them was from a trucker who lives there.
If any of you have read my LiveJournal blog, you know the depression I suffer with is cyclica
One of the bad things about driving around, through, and across this great big country of ours is there are places, very nice places, where cell service stinks. No bars! Or, even worse, ROAMING! Digital or analog, it doesn
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