Taking the left turn

Once again, it's time for a reset of my clock, which means I get to sit and relax for about a day and a half.  Sometimes I get some wonderful views, other times I don't get to see anything other than the parking area of the truck stop.

The truck stop I'm spending my time at is on top of a hill, and below me the city of Albuquerque is laid out, row upon row of lighted streets, and in the distance, what I believe could be some of the downtown buildings.  I stood for a few minutes after dinner, just looking down at the lights below, another American city I've had the chance to spend a little time in, even if it was just on the fringes.

I've encountered many cities like that in my travels.  Boston, San Diego, Tucson, Philadelphia ... there's many others, but the story is the same for each of them.  I was only there because I had a job to do, no time for sightseeing or exploring.  Still, I consider myself lucky to have been there, as I consider myself lucky to see sights that up until now I could have only seen in a television show or movie.  I never for a moment dreamed that I would pass through the southwestern deserts of Arizona, Nevada, and California.  Nor did I even imagine I would see the sand dunes in southern California, or see mountain passes and open prairies up close and personal.

One of these days, I might get to actually put my feet in the Pacific Ocean instead of gazing upon it as I drive past enroute to pick up or deliver another load to parts unknown.  Or, perhaps I might be able to sit down to a lobster dinner in New England again, instead of having to be satisfied with the standard truckers' fare at the truck stop.  There's a lot of things that I would like to do, but the realities of the job won't allow it to happen.  And vacation? Please.

I can barely afford to sit and reset my clock.

No matter.  For now, I relax.  Work will return soon enough, and the frustrations and stresses along with it.  Where do I go from here?  Only my dispatcher knows for sure.