If It's Thursday, today must be Thanksgiving

Today, all of America celebrates Thanksgiving Day, a day to gather with family and/or friends and reflect on the year past and all that one has to be thankful for in the year ahead.   Sounds nice, doesn't it? In truth, it's a day to eat way too much food and fall asleep watching football.  Some of the more ambitious of the clan will organize and pre-plan the shopping extravaganza of tomorrow with all of the skill and cunning of a seasoned military veteran.

Unlike most of the civilized world, I will not be spending any time at home, nor will I be with any family, friends or loved ones.  I am spending my day in a truck stop thousands of miles from home, eating whatever food I can get at whichever nearby restaurant I choose to visit.  Tomorrow, I get to pick up another load and head back across the country yet again in what seems like a never-ending cycle of loneliness and depression.

As much as I would like to tell myself that I knew what I was getting myself into when I started this mad merry-go-round ride, the cold reality is I had absolutely no idea it was going to be anything like this.  The nights are getting very cold and, since trucks aren't allowed to idle all night long, nor does this truck have one of those nifty little power units that provide heat and whatnot, that is adding to my misery.

I could go on, but who really cares?

I had said in my previous post, for those of you that still read this blog and pay attention, that I have nothing to be thankful for or feel blessed about.  That is not entirely true.  There is one person whom I feel thankful to have in my life, and it is a blessing to have her continue to be there despite becoming one of the "cool kids" and I can only hope that she will continue to be there throughout this crazy ride I'm on.

I'm getting too depressed to write anymore.   Maybe another time.

Maybe.

On The Road: Thanks for ... ??

Phase Two of my training has begun, and I am currently sitting in a truck stop just west of Flagstaff, Arizona.  Although I don't remember packing them, my usual assortment of doubts has crept in, leaving me to wonder what I got myself in to, and more importantly, if there is indeed a way out this time.  Naturally, as is the custom and as it's always been since I first started the training school, information has been flung at me hard and fast, and time will only tell how much of it has managed to stick to the walls of my brain, such as it is.  If I knew at the onset that things would be this weird, and after talking to drivers for this company, knew that this is de rigeur and part of the status quo, I would have never come here.

Too little, too late.

Thanksgiving is this Thursday.  I'm many miles from those that I consider family, and while this isn't by any stretch the first Thanksgiving I've had to work over my years, it will be the first one where, at the end of the work day, I will not be able to go home when the work is finished.  This, like most things I've experienced, will be a big first for me.  No, I'm not handling this well, thanks for asking.  The gentleman at the Subway where I had lunch remarked on the "slow end to the workday," and all I could think to myself was: Dude, at least your day has an end.


I still look at things differently than I used to, and of all the things I took for granted, going home at the end of the work day is one of the things I miss most.

My luck continues, unfortunately.  Not counting the general screw-ups (because I am technically still learning), I find myself thoroughly disenchanted with the company I work for.  We have a load that is supposed to be delivering at it's first offload point at 2 am tomorrow morning about 650 miles from where I am.  We (my co-driver and I) told the company several times, going through the phone system and a flurry of satellite messages, that there was no way we would be able to make the delivery time because, thanks to having to log all of last week's classroom time as on-duty time, we would not have enough hours to make the trip.  We told the dispatchers, we told the department who's responsibility it is for this type of load, and we told our driver manager.  All of whom sent their reassurances that they would work on getting someone else who had the time to get the load where it had to go.

Which is why we are currently sitting in the middle of nowhere, with nothing around us but the rugged Arizona hills, with absolutely no hours left on our clocks, unable to move the truck even if we had to.  I've not heard a word from anyone at the company since I spoke to them before we rolled out earlier this morning.

Thanksgiving time, so they say, is a time to reflect on your blessings and the things you're thankful for over the year.  As it stands now, I can honestly say, with all conviction and truth, I have absolutely nothing to be thankful for, nor do I feel particularly blessed in any aspect of my life.  I'm not all that optimistic about the next year, or the ones after that, either.

And don't get me started on Christmas.  That's a rant left best for another time.  Maybe next month.

Show me the way

Looking back over my last entry, reading it over and looking at it from a fresh perspective, I admit it does seem pretty melancholy.  Partly, because it is, and that was my frame of mind when I wrote it.  And partly because I've been told that no matter what I do, or where I go, I will probably never be happy.

I don't know if it's so much not being happy as not finding my focus, or knowing if I am indeed heading in the right direction, in my life.  When I think about all of the times I was asked, "What do you want to do/be when you grow up?" the only honest answer I could give was, "I don't know."  There was never any real push to seek a skill and for many years most of what I did was what I though I would enjoy or felt that, at the time at least, I really wanted to do.  I was told to develop a core set of skills so you could have something to fall back on should an option not work out as planned.  The only problem with that is in doing so, there's no real opportunity to develop proficiency to a level that makes you desirable or employable.

I've looked back at all the jobs I've ever held.  Yes, there's a lot of them, and in varying fields based on what I was doing at the time.  I've analyzed the best and worst traits of each, and there are a couple of common threads.  Of all the jobs, I liked the driving part of them the best.  It was nice to be out and away from any type of office politics, be somewhat on your own, knowing what you had to do and getting it done with little or no real direct supervision.  The parts I thought were the worst were the periods away from home for long periods of time, with no real decompression time and very little time off.

I am now locked into a job that combines the best and worst in one tidy package.

In a few short days I will have to be ready to hit the road yet again and complete training.  This time out is supposed to be shorter, with less home time following, after which I could either be granted the opportunity to head out on my own or told I won't make it.  I have no reason to intentionally torpedo my chances so I will give it my best shot and let the chips fall where they may -- if I fail, it won't be for lack of effort on my part.

The hard truth of the matter is I don't want to go.  An even harder truth is that I have to.  This is the conflict I will be wrestling with and trying to contain as I put on a brave face and soldier on as I am supposed to.

I've looked at local want-ads and I don't think I'm going to do that any more while I'm home.  All the jobs in my field require at least a year of experience, and at my age it's way too late to change careers and start fresh.  I wouldn't even know where to start.

And that's where things stand.  I will continue to do my best and I can only hope it's good enough.  It doesn't mean I'm going to be happy about it, but for now it's all I have.

On The Road: My wanderings

I'm typing this from a truck parked in a truck stop somewhere in Ohio.  I've been out on the road as part of my new job for the past five weeks, learning the tricks of the trucking trade and essentially living the life of a wandering nomad who just happens to transport goods to various points around the country.

It's not been an easy time, as I'm still learning a lot, but things as far as the operation of the truck and various tasks like backing up to a dock or into a parking space at a truck stop have gotten a little easier.  I've gotten better at it, at least, and haven't run over anyone or anything ... yet.

So far I've crossed the country twice and hit many different points in between.  I've currently logged over 10,000 miles driven.  I've been to cities I've only seen in pictures: Las Vegas, Salt Lake City, Phoenix, Tucson, Los Angeles, Cheyenne, Detroit, and many other towns.  I've driven through the wide open spaces of Wyoming, seen the saguaro forest of Arizona, been through the Mojave Desert, and saw the Pacific Ocean.  

And, more important, I've seen you.  At least, a representative cross-section of you.  I see you commuting to work, I see you commuting home after a long day, I see you out on errands or just going somewhere as I cruise along the highway.  I see all of you, living your normal little lives.

And I envy you.

I envy you because, unlike you, as long as I'm out here my work never ends.  It's always another load, to another destination, in another city and another state.  But the truly sad part, for me at least, is that all I really, truly want right now, is to go home.

Because, to me at least, that's where you're supposed to go at the end of the day.

Now, don't misunderstand me.  I love driving.  I'm very glad I took the steps to upgrade my license.  I'm happy that I received the training and that I'm fairly competent at what I do.  I don't hate the job per se, in fact under different circumstances I might have had a better time living on the road.

I guess, in my little heart of hearts, I'm just not the nomadic type.  I feel better when I know the job is done and I can return to my own home, and do it all over again the next day.  

I hope I can find something like that.

In a few days, I will have completed this phase of training and, for a little while at least, can have a few days to be at home and decompress.  And weigh options.

And, if need be, get ready to head back on the road.