It's time for a frank discussion here. At the point when I made the move from Con-way Truckload to Quickway, I wasn't quite sure about the future of this blog. I made an effort to retrace the history of the whole thing and see if it still made sense. The summary is as follows.
I became a truck driver in 2006 for various personal reasons. I wasn't desperate for a job and I wasn't in a difficult spot, as most of you have probably figured out. I just needed a change of scenery. Before I signed on the dotted line with CFI back then, I made an effort to learn something about the industry in general and various companies in particular.
What I learned was, with all due respect to some of you out there, that people involved with the trucking business are full of horseshit. I heard from some people that everything was awesome and, by the way, here was some guy's truck number. (These people wanted credit for recruiting me, along with the bonus pay that they would receive.) I heard from other people that trucking companies were nothing more than glorified sweatshops and, by the way, I was an asshole for even thinking about doing the job. (These people wanted some form of emotional validation for having failed as truck drivers themselves.)
As I tried to track down honest answers to my questions, I found that I didn't believe anyone. The recruiters were full of shit and the disgruntled former employees were full of shit. Nobody could seem to tell the truth without an agenda. Since I participated in a few online discussion forums at the time, I found the opportunity to express my thoughts about my employer and the industry in general. This was a form of entertainment for me. Various people. for one reason or another, took an interest in what I had to say.
So we get to this blog. I was asked one question on a regular basis - What's it really like out there? I really couldn't provide a quick but honest answer. One day would be like this and the next day would be like that. Some good, some bad, and a whole lot in-between. This blog was initially my contribution to people who wanted an answer to that single question. It was my way of saying, "Here's what it's like out on the road."
As time went on and quite a few people started reading for more than informational purposes, the blog became a little more fun for me to write. I get a kick out of the feedback and the conversations with people from around the world, and my day-to-day travels always seemed to provide new topics for discussion. Whether I was whining about dispatchers or talking trash about sports teams or spouting stereotypes about the inhabitants of a particular region, something always popped into my head when I sat at my keyboard. Every day for more than three years, there was at least something to say, even if that something was ridiculous.
Which brings us to now. I'm running a bit low on subject material these days. I said to myself a long time ago that I wouldn't waste my time writing a boring narrative of my daily routine. If all I could say was that I went from here to there, doing this and that along the way, it would be time to hang it up. I'm simply not that interesting as an individual. The observations and "tales from the road" were the point of the whole thing. The recent transition to my new job has provided a few ups and downs that seemed worth sharing, so the posts have kept coming every day so far. It's a little interesting to try going back to a "normal" life after having spent four years merely "vacationing" at home whenever I felt like it. There's just not a lot of inspiration, for lack of a better word. The daily and weekly routines, while not yet comfortable and settled for me, are indeed becoming routine.
The standard things that people suggest are to take a break or write less often and so forth, but I really see no point in that, at least in the context of what this blog has been for a few years. This has been an ongoing narrative that wouldn't really be well-served by a sporadic posting whenever I felt the need to say something. I have no desire to start spouting off about current events every day or anything like that either. There are plenty of actual writers who have more rational thoughts about things than I have. I'd much rather read what they have to say than write something myself.
I plan to do my best to find something to write at the end of the day here, but it's getting tougher. That's all I'm trying to say. I probably used a few more words than I needed to make that point.
Today on the milk front was as quick and easy as advertised. No calls from the dispatcher and no changes to my schedule. After my first stop in Howell, I scooted over to Lansing and then dropped down to Jackson for my second stop. The dairy guy there said that he wanted to pull the milk out of the trailer himself. Knock yourself out there, sport. Some of the dairy guys like to do this because it allows them to use an electric pallet jack to put the milk into the cooler. If I'm pulling the milk off with the electric jack, then they have to use a manual jack to put away the milk.
So anyhow, why are we talking about this? Oh yeah - After I had set the first pallet on the dock and left the pallet jack waiting for the fella, he came back around to grab the next pallet. And then he proceeded to tip it over by going across the dock plate at an angle. If you hit that plate at any kind of angle, then the wheel under one side of the pallet starts to ride up the ramp while the wheel on the other side stays below. Once you get 2,200 pounds of milk leaning sideways, you're at the mercy of gravity. Sometimes the pallet will rock back into place when the second wheel hits the ramp and sometimes... boom. After the guy spent a few seconds blaming me for not having stopped the thing from tipping (Put myself in the way of 2,200 pounds as it tips? Blow me.), we got the pleasure of cleaning up the mess and restacking the pallet of milk. This added some time onto what would have been an extremely quick shift for me.
All in all though, not bad. I had a total of 3.25 hours driving and 2.5 hours on Line 4. Since our union contract guarantees at least $138.08 for any shift that we work, that's what I earned for the day. Not Oprah money or anything, but it'll do. Tomorrow's dispatch will bring a lot more money and a lot more work, so I don't mind these quick and easy days when I can get them.
One of the disadvantages to communicating through blog comments is that you don't always catch people when you would like. I wrapped up my shift at 6:30pm tonight, so I was leaning toward heading out to Warren to visit with the best and brightest beermakers that Michigan has to offer. I only had one phone number for our man Brent though. I called it while I was heading back to the dairy. I'm assuming that the lady's voice on the voicemail belongs to his wife, but I don't know her and she doesn't know me. Ergo I didn't really feel inclined to leave a message. We'll just have to catch up another time, I reckon. Probably just as well, since the brakes on my car are grinding and I shouldn't do any more driving than is necessary. One more thing on the to-do list for my next day off. There's just always something, isn't there?
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
8/6/10
Thirteen-fifteen. What does that mean to you? (Military folks are asked not to respond here, for obvious reasons.) It means 1:15pm for those of us who don't usually think in those terms.
There is a lengthy history on this blog concerning my views on people who wake before 10am. In a nutshell, I think they're a bunch of degenerates. What in the hell could possibly possess someone to get up so early? I don't know. I think it must be witchcraft.
So yeah, I was asleep well into this morning. That's the way life oughtta be. At whatever point I managed to drag myself out of bed, I found that I had two voicemail messages waiting. One was telling me that my car would be available at 2pm on Friday. The other was telling me that my pull time for Saturday was thirteen-fifteen. At least one more day with a reasonable sleep schedule - excellent.
I got up at some time in the afternoon. My unemployed lodger and I rode across town to the body shop where my car was being prepared. Right at 2pm, as scheduled, the auto repair guys handed over my keys. I then drove my mother's car to her office. My friend, as planned, followed behind me with my car. The work on my car had been done well enough for the most part, but for $1,400 I truly expected more. There were a couple of imperfections in the paint work and the bumper was off the mark by a few millimeters. This was consistent with what one might expect from a fly-by-night local outfit, rather than a highly decorated establishment that charged my insurance company a lot of money.
In any event, I had my car back, so I was looking forward to the chance to kick back and unwind for a while. After watching a truly terrible movie (Grown Ups), I decided that I might as well head over to the local pub and catch the second half of the Tigers game. They lost, of course. It's what they do. Then back home for more relaxation, armed with the knowledge that I don't have to get up early in the morning. Thirteen-fifteen will work quite nicely.
As of right now (before the guys start calling in sick), I'm scheduled for one run tomorrow. It has a stop in Howell and another in Jackson and that's it. It only pays $129.04 so, unless something changes, I'll end up collecting the daily minimum of $138.08 for my five or six hours of work. Good enough for me. I'd be content to wrap up my shift nice and early and then find that brewmeister buddy of ours over in Warren, although I won't hold my breath. It seems that I never end up with the work to which I was originally assigned. Something always changes.
There is a lengthy history on this blog concerning my views on people who wake before 10am. In a nutshell, I think they're a bunch of degenerates. What in the hell could possibly possess someone to get up so early? I don't know. I think it must be witchcraft.
So yeah, I was asleep well into this morning. That's the way life oughtta be. At whatever point I managed to drag myself out of bed, I found that I had two voicemail messages waiting. One was telling me that my car would be available at 2pm on Friday. The other was telling me that my pull time for Saturday was thirteen-fifteen. At least one more day with a reasonable sleep schedule - excellent.
I got up at some time in the afternoon. My unemployed lodger and I rode across town to the body shop where my car was being prepared. Right at 2pm, as scheduled, the auto repair guys handed over my keys. I then drove my mother's car to her office. My friend, as planned, followed behind me with my car. The work on my car had been done well enough for the most part, but for $1,400 I truly expected more. There were a couple of imperfections in the paint work and the bumper was off the mark by a few millimeters. This was consistent with what one might expect from a fly-by-night local outfit, rather than a highly decorated establishment that charged my insurance company a lot of money.
In any event, I had my car back, so I was looking forward to the chance to kick back and unwind for a while. After watching a truly terrible movie (Grown Ups), I decided that I might as well head over to the local pub and catch the second half of the Tigers game. They lost, of course. It's what they do. Then back home for more relaxation, armed with the knowledge that I don't have to get up early in the morning. Thirteen-fifteen will work quite nicely.
As of right now (before the guys start calling in sick), I'm scheduled for one run tomorrow. It has a stop in Howell and another in Jackson and that's it. It only pays $129.04 so, unless something changes, I'll end up collecting the daily minimum of $138.08 for my five or six hours of work. Good enough for me. I'd be content to wrap up my shift nice and early and then find that brewmeister buddy of ours over in Warren, although I won't hold my breath. It seems that I never end up with the work to which I was originally assigned. Something always changes.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
8/5/10
A couple of days ago, I showed a video of Basil Marceaux.com to a friend of mine. My friend observed at the time that it would be awesome to see Mr. Marceaux.com appear on Red State Update. Awesome things do sometimes happen, my friends...
That'll leave a fella ready to pledge allegiance to the Republic on his day off. I can tell you that much.
Unfortunately, however, sometimes a day off turns out to be another day of work. These fucking guys and their sick calls are simply amazing to me. Two more today. So the dispatcher called me this morning to see if I could cover a run today and then take tomorrow off instead. I checked my log book and saw that I had plenty of hours left before I would need another restart. Since my only plans for today had involved going to a bar and watching the Tigers lose to those thugs from Chicago, I decided that working wouldn't be so terrible. A Friday off might be nice, after all.
My run had three stops - two in Saginaw and one in Northville, on the way back to the dairy. It paid $153.79, which wasn't terrible, but the 4pm pull time meant that I would spend an extra half hour stuck in rush hour traffic. What are you gonna do? Just part of the job. The three milk deliveries went fairly easily for me, although I did end up taking one of the old trucks with a manual transmission. This one had a somewhat functional air conditioner, so that was helpful, but it also had its own share of issues.
To put it more succinctly - today's truck was a hunk of shit. This isn't simply a matter of me being accustomed to the shiny new trucks that I usually drive either. Until a month ago, I spent all of my time in a truck with a manual transmission and a little over 500,000 miles on it. The one I drove today has 531,000 miles on it. The difference was astounding. I can't imagine that my old Kenworth would seem so dilapidated after another 800,000 miles on the road. The typical stuff related to driving an old truck was all well and good. The bumpy ride, the noisy engine, and the grubby interior were all to be expected. What wasn't expected was that the damned transmission would pop out of gear whenever I went over a bump in the road. I may not have mentioned this before but I live in Michigan. Our bumpy roads are legendary.
Cruising down the highway comprised quite a bit of today's work, so that part wasn't bad. The truck seemed to stay in gear fairly well whenever it was in 10th. The other aspect of my shift, of course, would involve actually delivering milk. The way the loads were set up was fairly favorable to me. My first stop took seven pallets and only gave back three pallets of empties, creating a little extra working space within my trailer. Then the second stop took nine pallets, leaving only four more for my final delivery. It was easy enough for me to set those four pallets aside before loading up as many empties as possible. (Sixteen empties, in this case.) At the final stop in Northville, I just watched as the dairy guy took his four loaded pallets out of my trailer and replaced them with four empties.
For the second time in as many trips with one of these old trucks, the fuel gauge had escaped my attention in the early going. I had enough to make my 211 mile round trip, but it was pretty close. Calling in sick isn't the only hobby that my coworkers like to pursue. A handful of them are also quite fond of leaving empty fuel tanks for the next guy. Anything you can do to skip those last ten minutes of work, eh fellas?
The timing of a day off tomorrow should end up working out rather favorably for me. I have some errands to run and so forth, including getting my car back from the body shop and dropping Mom's car off at her office. She and my father have been at their place up north all week, so I've been using her car the whole time. She has to work tomorrow though. Dad isn't working, so he can give her a ride in the morning. Then she'll have her car for the drive home and I'll have my car and everything can seem normal for at least a day or two.
That'll leave a fella ready to pledge allegiance to the Republic on his day off. I can tell you that much.
Unfortunately, however, sometimes a day off turns out to be another day of work. These fucking guys and their sick calls are simply amazing to me. Two more today. So the dispatcher called me this morning to see if I could cover a run today and then take tomorrow off instead. I checked my log book and saw that I had plenty of hours left before I would need another restart. Since my only plans for today had involved going to a bar and watching the Tigers lose to those thugs from Chicago, I decided that working wouldn't be so terrible. A Friday off might be nice, after all.
My run had three stops - two in Saginaw and one in Northville, on the way back to the dairy. It paid $153.79, which wasn't terrible, but the 4pm pull time meant that I would spend an extra half hour stuck in rush hour traffic. What are you gonna do? Just part of the job. The three milk deliveries went fairly easily for me, although I did end up taking one of the old trucks with a manual transmission. This one had a somewhat functional air conditioner, so that was helpful, but it also had its own share of issues.
To put it more succinctly - today's truck was a hunk of shit. This isn't simply a matter of me being accustomed to the shiny new trucks that I usually drive either. Until a month ago, I spent all of my time in a truck with a manual transmission and a little over 500,000 miles on it. The one I drove today has 531,000 miles on it. The difference was astounding. I can't imagine that my old Kenworth would seem so dilapidated after another 800,000 miles on the road. The typical stuff related to driving an old truck was all well and good. The bumpy ride, the noisy engine, and the grubby interior were all to be expected. What wasn't expected was that the damned transmission would pop out of gear whenever I went over a bump in the road. I may not have mentioned this before but I live in Michigan. Our bumpy roads are legendary.
Cruising down the highway comprised quite a bit of today's work, so that part wasn't bad. The truck seemed to stay in gear fairly well whenever it was in 10th. The other aspect of my shift, of course, would involve actually delivering milk. The way the loads were set up was fairly favorable to me. My first stop took seven pallets and only gave back three pallets of empties, creating a little extra working space within my trailer. Then the second stop took nine pallets, leaving only four more for my final delivery. It was easy enough for me to set those four pallets aside before loading up as many empties as possible. (Sixteen empties, in this case.) At the final stop in Northville, I just watched as the dairy guy took his four loaded pallets out of my trailer and replaced them with four empties.
For the second time in as many trips with one of these old trucks, the fuel gauge had escaped my attention in the early going. I had enough to make my 211 mile round trip, but it was pretty close. Calling in sick isn't the only hobby that my coworkers like to pursue. A handful of them are also quite fond of leaving empty fuel tanks for the next guy. Anything you can do to skip those last ten minutes of work, eh fellas?
The timing of a day off tomorrow should end up working out rather favorably for me. I have some errands to run and so forth, including getting my car back from the body shop and dropping Mom's car off at her office. She and my father have been at their place up north all week, so I've been using her car the whole time. She has to work tomorrow though. Dad isn't working, so he can give her a ride in the morning. Then she'll have her car for the drive home and I'll have my car and everything can seem normal for at least a day or two.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
8/4/10
I don't want to disrupt an ongoing narrative, so I'll go ahead and share the following info with you - my ankle is fucked. Fortunately though, I wouldn't have to lump any pallets of milk today. All I had to do was take a trailer out to Grand Rapids and then bring another trailer back to Livonia. In related news - if you think I went to Grand Rapids today, you're wrong.
My shift wrapped up last night at 1:45am, so I was available for work today any time after 11:45am. I saw that my Grand Rapids run was scheduled for 11am, so I notified the night dispatcher before I headed home. She adjusted my start time from 11am to noon and sent me on my way.
So I rolled into work this morning and checked in with the main dispatcher dude. I knew what was in store for me, of course, but it's SOP to make sure everything is still a go. Heh. Yeah. As seems to be the case every day at this place, someone called in sick. Flashbacks to my pre-trucking life are inevitable. Every day, without exception, someone calls in sick. That's just the way it goes. By becoming a long haul trucker, I was able to insulate myself from having to deal with the inherent laziness of people, at least to a certain extent. As long as I did what I was told to do, the scheduling nonsense and all the rest would be someone else's problem.
Now it seems that I'm right back in the thick of it all. I still don't have the responsibility to deal with employees who call in sick, but I do end up getting caught in the chain reaction that results. A guy gets sick and can't make his run today. Another guy can cover that one as a second run, but only if his first one is changed to a shorter route. He gets the shorter route and the sick fella's run is covered, so now we're left to deal with the longer route that the second guy gave up. None of the more senior guys want it, since they like their quick and easy runs. One of those "brothers" of mine was more than content to tack on my Grand Rapids turn at the end of his shift though. Of course. So I lost my easy schedule and wound up with two stops in Jackson and one in Hillsdale. The run paid $148.68, which is somewhere in the ballpark of what I would have made on my originally scheduled run. It just took a little over an hour longer and involved a lot more work.
I shuttled a few trailers over to the dairy for a quick $15 once I was legally allowed to work again, then made my pull and headed out to Jackson. The first two stores didn't really seem to have their shit together, so I was at each for around an hour. During the second stop though, I did manage to get the milk for my last stop rotated to the back of the trailer. That last stop went very quickly and easily, so the bit of extra time at the earlier stop was well worth it.
As I rolled across US-12, back toward home, I got a call from my dispatcher. There was a one-stop special order that I would need to deliver once I got back. Those special orders are the cat's meow as far as milk deliveries go. Stores occasionally find themselves in a jam and call the dairy for a few pallets to hold them over until the next scheduled delivery. Today's special order consisted of three pallets going to the store at the corner of Wyoming and 8 Mile. The thirty mile round-trip paid $49.99 plus my $15 incentive for taking a second load. An extra hour and a half of work and an extra $65 in my pocket. That's a pretty solid deal.
By the time I got home and got my shoes off tonight, there was quite a lot of pain and swelling in my recently sprained ankle. It's less colorful than it was last night, seeming to indicate that there wasn't a ton of internal bleeding, so I'm hoping that a day of rest tomorrow will do a lot of good.
My shift wrapped up last night at 1:45am, so I was available for work today any time after 11:45am. I saw that my Grand Rapids run was scheduled for 11am, so I notified the night dispatcher before I headed home. She adjusted my start time from 11am to noon and sent me on my way.
So I rolled into work this morning and checked in with the main dispatcher dude. I knew what was in store for me, of course, but it's SOP to make sure everything is still a go. Heh. Yeah. As seems to be the case every day at this place, someone called in sick. Flashbacks to my pre-trucking life are inevitable. Every day, without exception, someone calls in sick. That's just the way it goes. By becoming a long haul trucker, I was able to insulate myself from having to deal with the inherent laziness of people, at least to a certain extent. As long as I did what I was told to do, the scheduling nonsense and all the rest would be someone else's problem.
Now it seems that I'm right back in the thick of it all. I still don't have the responsibility to deal with employees who call in sick, but I do end up getting caught in the chain reaction that results. A guy gets sick and can't make his run today. Another guy can cover that one as a second run, but only if his first one is changed to a shorter route. He gets the shorter route and the sick fella's run is covered, so now we're left to deal with the longer route that the second guy gave up. None of the more senior guys want it, since they like their quick and easy runs. One of those "brothers" of mine was more than content to tack on my Grand Rapids turn at the end of his shift though. Of course. So I lost my easy schedule and wound up with two stops in Jackson and one in Hillsdale. The run paid $148.68, which is somewhere in the ballpark of what I would have made on my originally scheduled run. It just took a little over an hour longer and involved a lot more work.
I shuttled a few trailers over to the dairy for a quick $15 once I was legally allowed to work again, then made my pull and headed out to Jackson. The first two stores didn't really seem to have their shit together, so I was at each for around an hour. During the second stop though, I did manage to get the milk for my last stop rotated to the back of the trailer. That last stop went very quickly and easily, so the bit of extra time at the earlier stop was well worth it.
As I rolled across US-12, back toward home, I got a call from my dispatcher. There was a one-stop special order that I would need to deliver once I got back. Those special orders are the cat's meow as far as milk deliveries go. Stores occasionally find themselves in a jam and call the dairy for a few pallets to hold them over until the next scheduled delivery. Today's special order consisted of three pallets going to the store at the corner of Wyoming and 8 Mile. The thirty mile round-trip paid $49.99 plus my $15 incentive for taking a second load. An extra hour and a half of work and an extra $65 in my pocket. That's a pretty solid deal.
By the time I got home and got my shoes off tonight, there was quite a lot of pain and swelling in my recently sprained ankle. It's less colorful than it was last night, seeming to indicate that there wasn't a ton of internal bleeding, so I'm hoping that a day of rest tomorrow will do a lot of good.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
8/3/10
Ankles. They suck. At least mine do. The years and years of repetitive injuries to my worthless ankles have left them in a pretty sorry condition. The ligaments on the right one are stretched all out of whack and the left one gets pretty painful on cold or rainy days, most likely as a result of my failure to accept proper treatment the last time I broke it. Hey, guess who stepped in a hole tonight! Yeah buddy. Those ligaments in my right ankle got one more good stretching. It's a swollen purple mess right now. Fortunately, the ligaments are so loose to begin with that I don't think I tore them this time around. Walking is rather painful, but at least I can walk. When those suckers get torn, we're talking crutches and wheelchairs.
Now that I think of it, tonight's injury occurred in a spot where I wasn't originally supposed to be. You see, I had one load scheduled for today. It was a four-stop deal in and around Flint that paid $160.89. Not enough to send anyone to an early retirement, but a decent bit of coin for a Tuesday. Weekends are the busy times in this gig of mine. When I got to work this morning, I was told that I had a second run set up for tonight. The new one had three stops in the Toledo area and paid $137.53. When we tack on my extra $15 incentive for taking two loads in a shift, what is that? $313.42, right? Not exactly a typical Tuesday at the office.
Anyhow, I got back from my first trip at 7pm and dropped my trailer full of empty milk crates. Once I found the trailer for my next load, I backed under it and stepped out to connect the air and electrical lines and do my inspection. OUCH! Fucking hole in the parking lot, right in front of that trailer. I think the only thing that saved me from further damage was that I was still holding the handle of the truck when I felt my ankle buckle. This isn't my first rodeo when it comes to ankle problems, as you're surely aware by now, so I'm trained pretty well. I reacted almost instantly by pulling all of my weight off that leg. It's gonna be pretty tender for a week or so, but it'll get better.
So yeah, a $300 Tuesday. Just between you and me, I'd prefer something a little lighter on the pay scale. By the time you make trips to Flint and Toledo, mixing in seven deliveries, a drop/hook, and a fuel stop, you've burned damn near fourteen hours. In a former life I was that guy who chased every last dollar. Not anymore. There's a point when it's just too much. I think we reached that point this evening.
On a positive note, I didn't really screw up any of the deliveries. My total Line 4 time for the shift was 6.25 hours. That included all seven stops, fueling, dropping, hooking, and inspections. Just a couple of weeks ago, I don't think I would have come close to finishing both trips within fourteen hours. Now I'm still not fast, but it would be hard to deny that some progress is being made.
I should get a little relief tomorrow, both in terms of my ankle pain and my work schedule. Unless something changes, I'm only scheduled for one run out to Grand Rapids and back. That trip involves mainly setting the cruise control and holding the steering wheel for a few hours, rather than walking repeatedly in and out of the trailer. I've made the turn in Grand Rapids without any delays the last couple of times, so here's hoping for a quick and easy shift tomorrow. That would be the perfect way to set up my day off on Thursday.
Speaking of perfect, is this the perfect campaign ad for our man Basil Marceaux.com? I think it just might be.
Now that I think of it, tonight's injury occurred in a spot where I wasn't originally supposed to be. You see, I had one load scheduled for today. It was a four-stop deal in and around Flint that paid $160.89. Not enough to send anyone to an early retirement, but a decent bit of coin for a Tuesday. Weekends are the busy times in this gig of mine. When I got to work this morning, I was told that I had a second run set up for tonight. The new one had three stops in the Toledo area and paid $137.53. When we tack on my extra $15 incentive for taking two loads in a shift, what is that? $313.42, right? Not exactly a typical Tuesday at the office.
Anyhow, I got back from my first trip at 7pm and dropped my trailer full of empty milk crates. Once I found the trailer for my next load, I backed under it and stepped out to connect the air and electrical lines and do my inspection. OUCH! Fucking hole in the parking lot, right in front of that trailer. I think the only thing that saved me from further damage was that I was still holding the handle of the truck when I felt my ankle buckle. This isn't my first rodeo when it comes to ankle problems, as you're surely aware by now, so I'm trained pretty well. I reacted almost instantly by pulling all of my weight off that leg. It's gonna be pretty tender for a week or so, but it'll get better.
So yeah, a $300 Tuesday. Just between you and me, I'd prefer something a little lighter on the pay scale. By the time you make trips to Flint and Toledo, mixing in seven deliveries, a drop/hook, and a fuel stop, you've burned damn near fourteen hours. In a former life I was that guy who chased every last dollar. Not anymore. There's a point when it's just too much. I think we reached that point this evening.
On a positive note, I didn't really screw up any of the deliveries. My total Line 4 time for the shift was 6.25 hours. That included all seven stops, fueling, dropping, hooking, and inspections. Just a couple of weeks ago, I don't think I would have come close to finishing both trips within fourteen hours. Now I'm still not fast, but it would be hard to deny that some progress is being made.
I should get a little relief tomorrow, both in terms of my ankle pain and my work schedule. Unless something changes, I'm only scheduled for one run out to Grand Rapids and back. That trip involves mainly setting the cruise control and holding the steering wheel for a few hours, rather than walking repeatedly in and out of the trailer. I've made the turn in Grand Rapids without any delays the last couple of times, so here's hoping for a quick and easy shift tomorrow. That would be the perfect way to set up my day off on Thursday.
Speaking of perfect, is this the perfect campaign ad for our man Basil Marceaux.com? I think it just might be.
Monday, August 2, 2010
8/2/10
I had a bright idea this morning. Then my bright idea didn't quite work as expected, so I came up with another bright idea. This one went nicely according to plan. Since there was no dog at my folks' house when I got there, I needed something else to keep me entertained. Cooking is fun sometimes, so I decided to give that a shot. I had seen a recipe in a magazine a while ago and today seemed like a good time to put it to use.
My mother doesn't have a food processor, so I spent a good bit of time chopping fresh basil, fresh rosemary, and fresh parsley by hand. (I think the recipe called for some other kinds of herbs, but I went with what sounded good to me.) I wanted the flakes to be as tiny as possible, but I didn't want to use the dried stuff that they sell in shaker bottles. Ergo the chopping took quite a bit of work.
Then I mixed the herbs with butter (not margarine), lemon juice, and some dried grated lemon peel. I scooped the mixture onto a sheet of plastic wrap and then used the plastic wrap to help me form the butter into a log. With the log of herb butter in the freezer, I had time to kick back and relax for a while.
Once my butter had firmed up but not completely frozen, I took it out and cut it into disks. Then I balled up the hamburger meat and pressed a disk of herb butter into an indentation in the center of each ball. I worked the meat over the butter and pressed it into patties, keeping the herb butter disc centered in each patty. The burgers went in the fridge and it was time for me to go to bed.
Only I didn't go to bed. For one reason or another, I wasn't tired. I should have been tired. I had been awake for around 24 hours, but I wasn't ready to sleep. Whatevs. I got my call with tomorrow's work assignment at some point in the afternoon. My pull time is set for noon, so I concluded that I may as well not go to sleep during the day today. This way I can sleep tonight and then get up for work tomorrow.
I woke on my parents' couch at 2am tonight. According to my sources, I fell asleep even before Dad did. That never happens. Guess I really was pretty tired, eh? I remember having a delicious dinner, then taking some of the extra food over to a friend's house. I then went back to my parents' place and sat down to watch TV for a while, as my last load of laundry was in the dryer. Then... lights out. I don't even recall deciding to close my eyes or anything like that. I just crashed. Fortunately for me, I had awakened to use the bathroom at a pretty good time. I was able to get my shit together and make it home by 3am, so I'll get plenty of sleep before I head to work tomorrow.
A day off twice a week... I don't hate it.
My mother doesn't have a food processor, so I spent a good bit of time chopping fresh basil, fresh rosemary, and fresh parsley by hand. (I think the recipe called for some other kinds of herbs, but I went with what sounded good to me.) I wanted the flakes to be as tiny as possible, but I didn't want to use the dried stuff that they sell in shaker bottles. Ergo the chopping took quite a bit of work.
Then I mixed the herbs with butter (not margarine), lemon juice, and some dried grated lemon peel. I scooped the mixture onto a sheet of plastic wrap and then used the plastic wrap to help me form the butter into a log. With the log of herb butter in the freezer, I had time to kick back and relax for a while.
Once my butter had firmed up but not completely frozen, I took it out and cut it into disks. Then I balled up the hamburger meat and pressed a disk of herb butter into an indentation in the center of each ball. I worked the meat over the butter and pressed it into patties, keeping the herb butter disc centered in each patty. The burgers went in the fridge and it was time for me to go to bed.
Only I didn't go to bed. For one reason or another, I wasn't tired. I should have been tired. I had been awake for around 24 hours, but I wasn't ready to sleep. Whatevs. I got my call with tomorrow's work assignment at some point in the afternoon. My pull time is set for noon, so I concluded that I may as well not go to sleep during the day today. This way I can sleep tonight and then get up for work tomorrow.
I woke on my parents' couch at 2am tonight. According to my sources, I fell asleep even before Dad did. That never happens. Guess I really was pretty tired, eh? I remember having a delicious dinner, then taking some of the extra food over to a friend's house. I then went back to my parents' place and sat down to watch TV for a while, as my last load of laundry was in the dryer. Then... lights out. I don't even recall deciding to close my eyes or anything like that. I just crashed. Fortunately for me, I had awakened to use the bathroom at a pretty good time. I was able to get my shit together and make it home by 3am, so I'll get plenty of sleep before I head to work tomorrow.
A day off twice a week... I don't hate it.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
8/1/10
Try this one on for size. I left my last stop at 4:15am tonight. As I pulled out of the loading dock, I hit the 'scan' button on my truck's radio. The first song sucked. So did the second... I rolled into the dairy to drop off my trailer full of empty cases at 5:45am. During the hour and a half drive from Owosso to Livonia, I never stopped the radio from scanning the stations. When I heard a song that I didn't like, I just waited a few seconds and then the station changed. When I heard a song that I liked, I sang along for a few seconds and then the station changed. It simply never occurred to me to stop the scan. I'm not sure what to make of that one. I wasn't really tired or anything. Just had a short attention span, I suppose.
If we back things up to figure out how I wound up in Owosso at 4:15am, we'll find that I initially was assigned to two loads today. My first run had a stop in Monroe and another in Toledo. My second run had stops in East Lansing, St. Johns, and Owosso. A couple of hours before my scheduled 4:15pm pull, I got a call from work. Things had changed. Some dude couldn't make his last scheduled run so the board had to be shuffled a bit. No more Monroe/Toledo run for me. Now I was going to start with the East Lansing/St. Johns/Owosso run and then take a four-stop run on the overnight shift. My pull time was set for 6:15pm.
I wasn't too thrilled about the change, mainly because the run that I gained would pay about the same amount as the run that I lost, but it replaced more miles and fewer stops with fewer miles and more stops. I'm not a big fan of more stops. Whatever though. This is what I do. Just have to suck it up and get the job done.
I checked out directions to my newly assigned four stops and wrote down the relevant information, then kicked back and relaxed for a while. I had been all set to go at 4:15pm, so now I had two hours to kill. Then the next call came.
Another guy had lost his prescription glasses. He had a pair that he could use, but they were sunglasses. This meant that he couldn't drive at night. (No, I do not care to speculate on whether or not this was a bullshit story.) There was one load with some long miles but only a couple of stops on it, so the dispatcher put Mr. Sunglasses on that one. He would be able to finish up with that one before the sun went down. This switch then set off a chain reaction. This guy went to this load, that guy went to that load, all the way down the line. Eventually they got to me. Hey, guess what wound up happening to my schedule. Some other dude got my newly assigned four-stop run and I got my previously assigned two-stop run. Woulda been nice to start at 4:15pm then, eh?
All in all, the night went fairly smoothly once I finally got started. I was at the dairy at 5:45pm and I was back in my mother's car at 6am. For a shift that paid $265.48, that's fair enough. I had to burn some time waiting for another US Xpress guy to leave the dock at my last stop in Owosso. Then I found that their power jack was broken. I got the pleasure of lumping nine pallets of milk (2,200 pounds apiece) with a manual jack. Good times, good times. It's always something at that damned Owosso location. I'm under the impression that our man Brent lives out there somewhere. I may have to get him on the case.
So may day off has begun a couple of hours later than it should have, but it's all good. I may manage to sleep at some point along the way. I thought I was stopping by my parents' house to hang out with the dog until the folks get home, but ole Molly isn't here. My brother must have her over at his house or something. Guess I'll just do some laundry and relax then. I picked up some ground beef and seasonings on the way over, so I'm going to see what kind of gourmet burger arrangement I can produce before I nod off. A little 'wake and grill' in the afternoon should be A-OK.
An hour and a half of radio listening in five-second increments? What is that?
If we back things up to figure out how I wound up in Owosso at 4:15am, we'll find that I initially was assigned to two loads today. My first run had a stop in Monroe and another in Toledo. My second run had stops in East Lansing, St. Johns, and Owosso. A couple of hours before my scheduled 4:15pm pull, I got a call from work. Things had changed. Some dude couldn't make his last scheduled run so the board had to be shuffled a bit. No more Monroe/Toledo run for me. Now I was going to start with the East Lansing/St. Johns/Owosso run and then take a four-stop run on the overnight shift. My pull time was set for 6:15pm.
I wasn't too thrilled about the change, mainly because the run that I gained would pay about the same amount as the run that I lost, but it replaced more miles and fewer stops with fewer miles and more stops. I'm not a big fan of more stops. Whatever though. This is what I do. Just have to suck it up and get the job done.
I checked out directions to my newly assigned four stops and wrote down the relevant information, then kicked back and relaxed for a while. I had been all set to go at 4:15pm, so now I had two hours to kill. Then the next call came.
Another guy had lost his prescription glasses. He had a pair that he could use, but they were sunglasses. This meant that he couldn't drive at night. (No, I do not care to speculate on whether or not this was a bullshit story.) There was one load with some long miles but only a couple of stops on it, so the dispatcher put Mr. Sunglasses on that one. He would be able to finish up with that one before the sun went down. This switch then set off a chain reaction. This guy went to this load, that guy went to that load, all the way down the line. Eventually they got to me. Hey, guess what wound up happening to my schedule. Some other dude got my newly assigned four-stop run and I got my previously assigned two-stop run. Woulda been nice to start at 4:15pm then, eh?
All in all, the night went fairly smoothly once I finally got started. I was at the dairy at 5:45pm and I was back in my mother's car at 6am. For a shift that paid $265.48, that's fair enough. I had to burn some time waiting for another US Xpress guy to leave the dock at my last stop in Owosso. Then I found that their power jack was broken. I got the pleasure of lumping nine pallets of milk (2,200 pounds apiece) with a manual jack. Good times, good times. It's always something at that damned Owosso location. I'm under the impression that our man Brent lives out there somewhere. I may have to get him on the case.
So may day off has begun a couple of hours later than it should have, but it's all good. I may manage to sleep at some point along the way. I thought I was stopping by my parents' house to hang out with the dog until the folks get home, but ole Molly isn't here. My brother must have her over at his house or something. Guess I'll just do some laundry and relax then. I picked up some ground beef and seasonings on the way over, so I'm going to see what kind of gourmet burger arrangement I can produce before I nod off. A little 'wake and grill' in the afternoon should be A-OK.
An hour and a half of radio listening in five-second increments? What is that?
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