Very Unexpected Resolution

I just effectively quit my job. This has come as quite a surprise to me. It’s not something that I saw on the horizon or ever seriously considered. Sure, you get annoyed and think, “I don’t need this,” but I certainly didn’t get up this morning thinking about leaving the company.
Still, this decision isn’t as impulsive as it sounds. Here’s what happened.
After a series of exchanges between me and my dispatcher about them trying to send me to Georgia instead of home for the weekend as I expected, he told me to “sit tight and let’s see how things shake out.” That left me hoping that perhaps they might be finding me an alternative to going to Georgia. So I after I left the consignee, I pulled off on an on-ramp to I-485 to see how this would play out. Around 14:30, he sent me a pre-plan, detailing how I would be getting back from Georgia on Saturday. Essentially he was telling me that I was going to Georgia whether I liked it or not. And I balked.
Look, I’ve had to work over into Saturday before. I usually do it with a little grumbling, but no real conflict in the end. But this has been made different by the way my dispatcher simply dismissed my objections, and then saw fit to question my professionalism and my commitment to fulfilling my obligations. This fuck-tard, who tears out of the office at 5 pm sharp every afternoon, is going to dismiss my objections about being made to work into the weekend, and insult me to top it off?
Well, after he sent me the pre-plan and it became clear that no one at Epes gave a damn about what I thought, I went back into the sleeper and laid down on my bunk. I thought for a long time about the idea of going to Georgia. Everything in me said to just get up, pick up the load, do as I’m told, and move along. But my fuck-tard dispatcher had made this a different situation by this point. It wasn’t simply the inconvenience of being sent to Georgia when I was 35 miles from home and expecting to start my weekend. By his dismissive and arrogant attitude (big, bad dispatcher and all that), he turned it into a massive insult. Going to Georgia would have felt to me like he’d bent me over a table, and then thrown a quarter onto my back to show me what a nice guy he is. I just couldn’t bear the thought of him forcing me to do something I didn’t want to do, and brushing aside my objections as if it was amusing to him that I ever thought that I had a choice. This wasn’t about Georgia anymore. This was personal. And I couldn’t bear the thought that this fuck-tard could force me to do anything.
After a few more exchanges, I told him “I’ll have the truck and trailer in Greensboro on Monday morning,” and I headed to Kings Mountain.
He wrote me one message after that. A nicely worded “I’m sorry that you feel that way. I hope you all the best,” and a few other lines that were designed to cover his ass. This offended me even more. He didn’t give a shit that I was quitting the company, much less “why”. He only wanted to cover his ass on the satcom, and make me out to be the unreasonable truck driver who was testing the patience of his benevolent dispatcher.
Well, I’ve played satcom tag for 7 1/2 years. I know it’s important to state your case in the satcom logs. If anyone decides to go back and check the messages to see what went on, and I hadn’t followed up on his last statement, his final word would have been the defining impression on this issue. So I wrote him a series of five or six satcom messages detailing exactly why I was quitting and what role he played in it.
I have to admit, I’m stunned by this. As I said, I never intended to quit. I figured I would be with this company at least until the end of the year, if not for several years to come. But as I’m heading home, scratching my head about the way this has worked out, I’m firm in one regard. I simply can’t bear the thought of that asshole flipping a quarter up onto my back.

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