Turning Around

My dispatcher let me get just about to Richmond before he told me to come to Greensboro. He couldn’t tell me that an hour ago? Hell, he couldn’t tell me that at noon when I was just about empty at the consignee?
After turning around and heading back over, that will have added over 120 miles to my driving today. Yes, I know I took it upon myself to head toward Richmond, but I gave my dispatcher plenty of warning. In fact, I waited 30 minutes before I left to see if he had a better idea. He didn’t.
I’ve been chewing on this whole thing with my dispatcher. Maybe I should have just left Epes last week. I assumed that if I came back my dispatcher and I could act like adults and get past our conflicts. But he seems hell-bent on acting like some high school drama department reject who’s desperate to show me that he’s BMOC after all.
If nothing else, this week has definitely confirmed that my dispatcher made that phone call last week against his will. It’s apparent that he’s going to do what he can to slow me down. Which pisses me off. They were rid of me last week. Why not just let me go?

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