Saturday Coffeehouse Post

Okay, I'm not really at a coffeehouse, but I do have a bottle of Frappuccino, and dammit, I think that should count.

As I sit here at the truck stop, under the lead-grey skies, watching the occasional snow flurry pass overhead, I feel glad that I don't have to go anywhere until tomorrow when conditions will improve, and sad because I'm nowhere near being close to home.  I've been on fifteen trips so far, with two more in line.  I'm tired.  I'm grateful for the brief break but know I need something longer to fully recharge myself.

I'm also concerned about the trip I've been pre-planned on for Monday.  I suppose, under ideal conditions, I could make it in the time frame they set, but not knowing the exact delivery time makes it look fairly impossible right now.  I'm hoping the confusion will lift once I know more about it, which won't happen until Monday.

Being up here in actual winter conditions only reinforces why I moved to Dallas in the first place.  My hatred for winter knows no bounds, especially after spending a good chunk of my driving career in places like southern New England and the Upper Midwest.  I'd much prefer to be in a climate where I can actually feel, let alone move, my fingers and toes.  I can handle winter in small doses now, but prolonged periods, where antigel in the fuel tanks and praying the truck will start on some frosty morning are de rigeur has, surprisingly, lost it's allure.

Speaking of starting the truck, I can only hope I can do that come tomorrow morning, or else the emergency repair phone line will be getting a very heated call from me demanding that they actually fix the damn problem, instead of throwing another palliative measure at it and hoping it will carry me through.

Although, given the forecast, some extra heat wouldn't be a bad thing right now.