sick

The curse of the odd numbered year…

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Years ago I realized something; Every bad decision or not so pleasant thing seemed to occur on odd numbered years. It was really more of a joke and a passing thought but as I pondered the idea I realized it was true. Every hardship I had lived through did indeed happen on odd numbered years. Heck, I’m even including my own birth since I hadn’t had a say in that unfortunate event either.

This year, like so many other odd numbered years, is already showing it’s going to take some fortitude to get through. While it started out fine it’s seems to be slowing turning on me.

Take for instance this last Calgary run. It started out easy enough. After my respite with family I headed down to Joliet to pick up some candy headed to Michigan. Super easy run. After that I set up for my Calgary load by dropping my trailer and heading to the store for supplies and medicine. I always forget that kids are walking germ factories and that playing with them during cold and flu season is a risk to my health. I was now feeling the beginnings of a cold and I needed meds to combat it.

After supplies were procured, I settled in for the night for my morning pickup. Things went just as planned and I was off for Canada. As I drove through the outskirts of Chicago and Madison I blew kisses to my family. I don’t know what it was about this trip but the homesickness hit me harder than it has in a while. Actually that’s not true, I know what it was. It was being enveloped by love that did it. That and making new friends.

As I made my first stop for the night in Minneapolis I was in full on agony. This cold came on hard and fast and my chest was feeling constricted and my sinuses were screaming at me. I’ve mentioned it before but I’ll say it again; It really sucks to be sick in a truck. It makes everything just feel worse because work/life balance isn’t really a thing in this job. #truckerslife is just that. We live, eat, breathe, and sleep this life.

My second day was the biggest struggle as I just really wanted to sleep the whole day away. I did stop on my break and take a two hour nap which really helped. Minot, SD was my next stopping point. I had originally planned on heading to the movies to see Captain Marvel but with my nap I was behind schedule and missed the last showing. It was for the best though as I really just wanted and needed more sleep.

Upon waking the next morning,. I felt as if I had a boulder on my chest and all I could think was, well shit. I’ve had issues with colds turning into bronchitis most of my life. I guess we’ll see what Canadian healthcare looks like if this turns bad.

I pushed on to Calgary, feeling horrible but not horrible enough to go to the doctor, made my delivery, slept and headed out for Washington. This is where things took a decided turn for the worst.

When I leave Calgary I’m always empty. Empty trailers are great because they save on fuel consumption and I can easily climb the hills around Crows Nest Pass without too much of a slow down.

As I headed out of Calgary everything was going grand. The sun was shining, I finally was feeling a relief from the pressure of my chest congestion, and one of my best girls was off on an adventure of her own (something that I’m proud of her for undertaking).

About 100 miles outside of Calgary, I was suddenly hit by a blast of wind that coincided with me hitting a hidden ice spot on the road. How I managed to keep my truck from completely leaving the road instead of coming close to a full Jack-Knife yet maintaining control, I’ll never know. I eased off the gas and let myself slowly decrease speed. Ok, this isn’t good.

As I limped along, I white knuckled the steering wheel and watched every gust of wind throw my trailer hard to the right off the road and onto the shoulder. I was now on a stretch of road I knew well and knew there were no truck stops anywhere close by. The best I could hope for was a roadside turnout (which happen to be quite deep and I feel completely safe in).

While it was not snowing, the strength of the wind was blowing the snow on the fields over onto the road, which was warm, but quickly cooling with that nice layer of snow, which also meant that there was a nice layer of ice underneath.

At this point I was doing about 25mph but still felt unsafe. I kept limping along waiting for that turnout, and when I finally saw the sign that announced it was two kilometers ahead I breathed a sigh of relief.

As I came up to it, I signaled that I was getting over and eased over. Just then a gust of wind hit my trailer and I went sliding. Luckily there was a nice snow bank to help stop my sideways momentum. As my truck came to a complete stop I thought, “Well I guess I’m staying here for the night.”

As I sat there I just watched the wind blow more and more snow across the road.

About an hour later a snow plow came by and I realized that in the morning I was going to need a tow. I did try to see if I could move my truck. I got out my chains but even the added traction didn’t seem to help. Since I was still feeling under the weather I climbed into my bunk, said a wee prayer to not tip over in the night, and let the wind rock me and my truck to sleep.

The next morning I was up and contacting my road assist. They asked me to send them pictures to see what they were dealing with so they could find the best tow truck. This is what I sent them.

The snow in that last one is about 8-10″ deep, They let me know someone would be out in about three hours. Cool, that was enough time too properly coffee up and have a nice breakfast.

About two hours later my hero Dean arrived.

Ugh I’m so sick but I can still smile. He and his sexy peterbuilt were there to save the day.

If you ever find yourself in a jam in the Calgary area, give Skyline a call.

Faster than I could realize Dean had me hooked up and drug out of the snow. With a smile and a cough (sick…duh) I was off again for the states.

The rest of the drive was uneventful…until I hit Washington. Of course there would be more snow. Didn’t that damned gopher miss his shadow this year? Isn’t spring supposed to be on it’s way?

I’m currently in Idaho on my way to Florida so I’m gonna get me some spring weather if it kills me. Of course with my luck, by the time I get down there it will be more like summer weather which I’m not a fan of either. Hopefully this stupid cold will be gone by then.

Until next time my lovelies. Xoxo

Driver by any other name….

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This one is for the men…or maybe the ladies…aww, hell its for everyone.

For starters I’m going to start off by saying that as I started to write this, I had just experienced my third sexual harassment moment of the day. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry at the fact that each instance was from a different category of harassment. It’s almost as if the universe was saying “hey, want to know what you should write about next?” It’s been a few days and I’ve calmed down but I still feel this all needs to be said.

Some days on the road are better than others. I generally try to keep this blog positive but I’m about to lay down a bit of truth about life on the road as a woman trucker, but in all actuality it’s really just about life as a woman regardless of where you are or what you do and it’s a bit of a rant and just needing to get all of this off my chest.

I’ll start you out easy with whistles and cat calls.

Whistling or cat calling aren’t a way to tell a woman you find them good looking. In all honesty, we (and I’m speaking for the majority of women I know) don’t find it flattering when you whistle at us or yell out to us. I for one will always respond with a one fingered salute at a minimum or I will gladly walk over and give you a piece of my mind while most likely shredding any dignity you might have. I hope for your sake it’s the former and not the latter because as I’ve been told I can be right intimidating when pushed. Today it was the one finger salute and a yell out of “F Off”.

For the most part, when you whistle at or yell things at a woman it shows you have no self control. It also tells us you don’t really respect us. If you have no self control and no respect, why in the hell should we give you the time of day? If you get upset at a woman not genuflecting at your feet after you yell out something trite like “Damn look at that hot ass” or “Girl you fine” then it’s probably not the woman as much as it is your method of delivery. Ask any woman in your life how they feel about being yelled at. Hell, ask any woman in your life what it’s like to be a woman and the crap they’ve had to go through their entire life and you might understand.

Next, your hands. These should never be placed upon another person or any of their possessions (especially the clothes covering their bodies) without their permission. That goes for men, women, and children. There is no grey area here and no exception. If you want to see a person’s tattoo that is partially covered by a piece of clothing, ask them. They will most likely show you since most people are proud of their ink. What you should never do is move someone’s clothing to look at their ink without their consent. I’m sorry, if I feel someone touching me (as I did today) without my knowledge or permission I will turn into a honey badger, and honey badger don’t care.

I will probably (again as I did today) respond with violence. A slap at minimum, a full beat down if I’m really in a foul mood. The man who decided to grab at the back of my shirt to get a closer look at my tattoo probably wasn’t expecting to end up with a stinging face and a stumble from a shove but then again I wasn’t expecting to be pawed at or touched without my consent so we both got something we didn’t want or expect.

His stunned look and stammering excuse of “I just wanted to look at your tattoo” got a very loud response of “Don’t you ever put your hands on another person with out asking asshole. If you want to see my ink, ask. You’re lucky you’re still breathing.”

The stunned silence in the truck stop was impressive and more than one person moved out of my way as I stormed out after paying for my purchases. No one came to my defense. No one came to his defense. I think everyone was in shock except for me. I was seething with a blind rage.

Lastly, and this was kind of my last straw. If you don’t know a woman’s name the acceptable way to address them is Ms/Miss or even a ma’am. Calling a woman Darling, Gorgeous, Sexy, or any other derogatory term is well, derogatory. I can ignore most things, I just choose not to. When I’m called any of those adjective instead of a proper greeting that place emphasis on my looks, well then I feel like an object not a person. I can either choose to ignore it or say something about it. Those of you who know me will know I will usually take the former rather than the latter any day. When this happens in my current business, I really take offense to it.

That is why the following conversation happened.

Dockworker: Hey Gorgeous, you can back into door 19

Me: Driver

Dockworker: I’m sorry?

Me: You can call me Driver if you don’t know my name. If you don’t want to call me driver you can call me Miss or Ma’am or you can ask my name which is Tj by the way. I don’t respond to gorgeous.

Dockworker: (laughs nervously) Uh, I wasn’t…

Me: Trying to be sexist? Well you failed.

With that I started my truck to move it to door 19. After I was unloaded the same dockworker came out to give me my paperwork.

Dockworker: Here’s you paperwork gor…um driver.

Me:

After a moment of doing the above I wished him a good rest of his evening and left.

Here’s the deal with all of that. When I’m picking up, driving, or delivering I’m essentially at work. I get that I don’t dress, act, or look like other drivers on the road. All of that is irrelevant in my eyes. I’m still at work. Yes I know I’m an anomaly. Yes I know that some women may be flattered by this kind of attention. I am not.

I had a conversation with another driver about this and asked how he would feel if he had a dockworker talk to him like that. His immediate response was to say if it was by a male dockworker the would be offended because he’s not gay.

I’ve given this a lot of thought over the last couple of days and realized that the reaction is kinda the same. He would be offended because he’s not gay and doesn’t want the attention of a man that way. I’m offended because I also don’t want the attention of a man that way regardless of sexual orientation. Is it such a hard concept to wrap your head around?

Now, don’t get me wrong. I still feel safe on the road and I’ve yet to really feel in danger. I’ve heard of many women drivers who have all sorts of weapons and deterrents just in case. Me, I’ve just never been the type to feel I need a weapon to feel safe.

To quote Ani DiFranco, “Every tool is a weapon if you hold it right.” My weapon is my mind and my determination and those are really the only weapons that matter to me.

I’ve left Calgary behind. I didn’t get to do what I wanted due to getting a bit of a tummy bug. Maybe this made me a bit more sharp when dealing with people.

Let me say that being sick in a truck sucks. It doesn’t matter what kind of sickness it is, it all sucks when you’re in a truck.

After picking up a load of apples again from Washington, I’m heading down to Alabama. I have a lot of time on this run so I’m taking it easy, having short days, and conserving my energy. I’m ready for my next break which will be in Denver at the end of the month to hang with my daughter for her birthday. I’m looking forward to getting out of this truck for a couple of days and do normal things. Lately I’ve been feeling like Stabby McKnife.

Thanks for reading my rant. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

Whew where has the time gone?

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Now that I’m on my own, it’s amazing but exhausting.

When I picked up my truck last month, it had 1018 miles. Now it has over 12000. I guess I’ve done some driving. I’ve been remiss in writing this blog and I’m sorry for those of you who have been worried. I’m still alive and I’m doing well.

Here is where I’ve been.

Springfield, MO to Kentucky.

Kentucky to Tampa, FL

Florida to Waco, TX (with visits from scary mosquitos in Louisiana)

Austin to Pheonix

Phoenix to Mira Loma, CA

Mira Lima to Portland

3 day jaunt home to stock the truck and finally pick up Zilla.

While home I did get a nice homecoming surprise.

After that I was off again. Warden, WA to Arcadia, FL

Bradenton, FL to Cedar Falls IA

Now I’m driving from Iowa to Greenfield, IN and Mount Pleasant, PA

Lately if I’m not driving I’m sleeping. I’ve battled a few bugs and I currently have an infection that I can’t seem to fight off without seeing a doctor, so after this delivery I’m going to see if I can get routed into our main terminal where there is a doctor on site.

Something I’ve marveled at is how during this time of year I can go from season to season in a single week.

One of the harder part of my job is how much time I have to come face to face with some of the emotional skeletons in my closet. When you have hours upon hours on the open road, thinking is sometimes all you have to do. It has given me a certain clarity of who I am but it’s also helped to heal some wounds I forgot were there. I’ve been unpacking emotional boxes that I had shoved deep in my attic of a brain and and looking at what’s in there. While I can’t change decisions I’ve made in the past, I also can stop beating myself up about some of those decisions and forgive. Forgive myself for bad decisions, forgive other people who have wronged me so long ago that I don’t remember the details of the wrong, and let it all go.

Loneliness can be a struggle at times. While training I couldn’t wait to be in my own truck and have my own space but now I can go days without speaking to another person. We’ve become so accustomed with texting as a means of communication instead of speaking to each other, but texting isn’t something that I can do easily or legally while driving. While I’m a competent tester, I also love to talk on the phone. Unfortunately so many people I know don’t share my enthusiasm for phone chats so it makes keeping in touch difficult at times.

One of the rudest surprises I had was at a weigh station in the rest room.

Dudes, this thing is freaking cold to sit on in winter. I mean, I’ve sat on cold toilet seats before but never ones made of metal. As weird as it is to say, but I would have rather have been in a porta potty rather than put my butt cheeks on this thing. It also just had a weird prison feel to it and that made it all the worse in my opinion.

Until next time my lovelies. Xoxo