I liken myself to a trucker lately. Minus the sleeping in your rig part. Oh, and I have yet to stop at any truck stops or show any serious butt crack (that I’m aware of). How stereotypical am I? I can hear you all now, “NOT ALL TRUCKERS LET THEIR CRACK HANG OUT!” I don’t mean to offend.
Seriously though. All this driving is pretty nutty. I never realized just how upsetting the word “recalculating” could be until I’d been driving for hours on the verge of what I like to call a pee emergency. When she says that word (my GPS is female), I nearly have a fit. Ok, I do have a fit. And the words that come out of my mouth aren’t that nice. Something like, “Hello, you told me to stay left! The highway veered right. Get your shit together lady!” Although the recalculation usually loses me a total of one or two minutes, it’s still upsetting.
When I’m not driving I’m either in a Lowe’s store delivering the training or eating crap from some fast food place (trucker style, again). And the trainings have all gone really well, but you would not believe the comments that come out of people’s mouths when I say I’m from Utah. One guy was like, “Do you ride a horse?” Huh? You mean to get around? I simply replied, “No, I don’t ride any horses.” Mind you, these are very small towns I’m in, not anything like Salt Lake. You know, towns where they drive tractors around. It probably didn’t help that I let them know it was Pioneer Day yesterday and then explained what that meant. The looks on their faces said it all. Whatever, I like Pioneer Day.
I visit two stores in South Carolina tomorrow and then I get to start my trek home. In a plane, thankfully, not a car. What is it with what people lug onto planes these days, by the way? I have seriously seen people carrying their full size pillow and blanket. Have you been on an airplane, people? There is hardly enough room for your ass let alone your entire bed set! Sorry, I’m tired.