Crossing the St. James

About 15 miles north of Jacksonville, Florida. I’m heading down to deliver in Kissimmee. I had planned to deliver around midnight. But I stopped by Mama’s apartment for a shower. While I was there my fuck-tard dispatcher pissed me off. I won’t go into details. After that, though, I just didn’t care. This guy seems to have a talent for making me regret being employed by this company.
Anyway, I only hurt myself. Fuck-tard left at 17:00 yesterday, right on schedule. He got a good night’s sleep. Except for the two hour emergency nap I took a bit ago, I’ve been driving since 18:00 last night. Real bright of me, huh? But I’m sure by leaving late, driving all night and getting no sleep, I’ve shown the Fuck-tard a thing or two. He’ll think twice before he messes with me again, I’m sure.
From the looks of things, I’ll deliver around 07:00. My next load picks up out of Zephyrhills and delivers tomorrow morning in Monroe, Georgia.
:: crosses the St. James River and waves at Jacksonville ::
From Monroe I hope they have some kind of plan to get me to Greensboro. I have to pick up my rental car by noon on Saturday. I don’t expect any problems with getting to Greensboro. But the company has done unbelievably stupid things in the past. And I’m beginning to wonder if Fuck-tard has some kind of personal thing with me (no, I’ve never called him Fuck-tard when talking to him, although I’ve certainly wanted to on occasion).
I’m looking forward to the week off. I think I definitely need the re-set. I need to just blow off some steam and waste some time. Need to brush off some of the crusty debris that’s still sticking to me.

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