6/22/10

In the 'credit where credit is due' department, we'll have to score one for my new fleet manager today. After slugging my way through the morning traffic, I got over to my consignee in Carrollton, Texas. Finally, finally, finally, I managed to send in my request for home time.  Give me nineteen days off.  Screw it.  I need a break.

After I got settled into the loading dock and kicked back for a while, I got a message from my fleet manager asking me how many vacation days I was taking.  It's funny - I get two weeks of paid vacation each year but it has never occurred to me to use the days off.  I always call the payroll people and make sure I get my money, of course, but my days at home have always counted as home time.  I accrue a lot of extra home time by staying out for weeks and months at a stretch, so I simply never thought to use my time off as vacation time.  With the assistance of today's handy little exchange of messages, I'm now scheduled for fourteen days of vacation and five days of home time.  Keeping some extra days banked up might come in handy some time down the road.  Like any good hypocrite, I don't mind having them looking over my shoulder when it works out to my benefit.  Good lookin' out, my brother.

My payload consisted of big rolls of foam, stacked floor to ceiling with no pallets.  As such, the unloading process took quite a while.  I was done eventually though, at which point I drove around to the far side of the building and parked to await my next assignment.  I had gone to the wrong side when I arrived this morning and I noticed that the adjacent warehouse was unoccupied.  Hanging out there sounded better than driving down to the terminal in Lancaster, partly because I hate driving in Texas and partly because my 70 hours were still in short supply.

My next assignment came through before I even had a chance to check my board status.  It was picking up in Lewisville, only a few miles away, at 2pm.  Since I basically hate driving in Texas regardless of the time of day, the thought of getting loaded just in time for the afternoon rush wasn't very appealing.  I decided to head over a few hours early and see what might happen.  The fella driving the forklift seemed pretty exasperated by my arrival but I did end up getting out of there well ahead of schedule.  Another 3,000 pound payload too.  Given that it is truck parts, I was expecting a heavy one.  It turned out to be seat cushions or something.  That'll help to offset some of the extra fuel I've been burning in the constant 100° heat lately.

In the 'criticism where criticism is due' department, we'll have to score on for the feds.  My trip is taking me to Chillicothe, Ohio.  I could have knocked out just under half the trip today and finished it off tomorrow, ahead of a Thursday morning delivery.  But the government somehow knows better.  Between this afternoon and tomorrow, I had a little over ten hours available to me.  So apparently it will be better for me to get off the road tomorrow afternoon, take a (probably sleepless) ten-hour break, and then run overnight to reach my consignee in time.  Assholes.

I can drive six and a half hours tomorrow, meaning that the last leg of the trip will be a fairly long one, meaning that I'll have to get cracking again right at midnight tomorrow night, meaning that I'll have to be done by 2pm tomorrow afternoon, meaning that I'll have to start fairly early in the morning.  Oh, if only my asinine federal government could regulate more of my life.  Just think - without them I might get a normal night's rest tonight and tomorrow night.  That would be terribly unsafe.