6/12/10

The ole Godfather ain't exactly loving life at the moment, so you'll just have to bear with me here.  I drink a lot of water.  I haven't had to urinate in two days.  My bladder is not full.  If you haven't made the calculation at this point, consider yourself fortunate.  For everyone else, hey, it's called Tales from the Road.  This was another day on the road...

I felt some aches and pains starting a couple of days ago, but I thought they were just workout-related or something.  Maybe also affected by going northward and sleeping in some cooler weather for a change.  As it turns out, there must have been a little more going on.  I'm not sure which was worse - last night or today.  Last night, I had to get up every two hours and run to the restroom.  Today, I had to get off the road every two hours and run to the restroom.

I suppose that there was an unintended benefit from this sort of driving shift.  By keeping the stints on the road a little shorter and by keeping my mind preoccupied with the thought of not soiling my drawers, I didn't reach nearly the level of road rage that normally would result from a trip down I-77 with a heavy trailer.  Even with a little morning rain, the traffic was an afterthought.

I made it down to the Pilot in Brunswick, Georgia tonight.  That'll leave me somewhere around 400 miles from Miami.  I took a look at an aerial view of the place where I'll be delivering and it looks like I'm shit outta luck in terms of parking down there, so I'll most likely stop in Pompano again and finish off the trip on Monday morning.  Miami traffic at 8am on Monday will probably suck royal dick, but at least I should have a chance to join our man Rick for some dinner tomorrow evening (assuming my stomach is straightened out by then).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna have to head inside and shoot some more Yoohoo into the bowl.  Freaking brutal, man.  Freaking brutal.