Life as a Spectator Sport

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Thursday, April 29, 2004

Shelley is home for a couple of days, and we're hoping the contractor shows up this weekend to do the driveway. Mundane domestic concerns, for once, instead of global ones. The contractor was supposed to be there last weekend, but never turned up. He told me on Monday that it had poured rain at his place and he'd assumed it was raining at mine too, so grading and ditching was obviously impossible. He might have called to let me know, I said rather huffily, because I could have spent the day inspecting stores instead of standing around there waiting for him to turn up. He said huffily back that I should have known he wouldn't be there if it was raining. It wasn't raining, of course, on Clarence's property, and I hadn't known it was raining on the contractor's. Oh well.

Besides that, he said, the exhaust manifold fell off one of his trucks and it took him most of the day to put a new one on, and one of his equipment operators called and said his mama had just had a stroke and was right that minute being carried to the hospital and he wouldn't be in to work that day. One of the minor irritations of living in a small rural town is that work gets done at other people's convenience. I'll still take that over sirens and 24-hour bright lights.

Shelley is driving for one of USXpress's dedicated accounts now, which is good in one way (fewer loads per week, and all of them in a restricted three-state area), bad in another (she has to unload the van herself at each stop). When I picked her up last night from where she had parked, she was so exhausted she could hardly get out of the truck. One of those vans holds a couple thousand boxes, each of which has to be taken down from the top of its stack (or lifted up from the floor), and placed on a conveyor belt extending from inside the van down to the warehouse floor. She delivers directly to this account's retail stores, so there are no loading docks. She says her muscle strength and endurance are improving and that she is less wiped out now, on the whole, than she was at first, but this week she had made two back-to-back runs with multiple stops for unloading and no sleep in between. She took a couple of ibuprofen when we got back to the apartment, went straight to bed and hasn't been heard from since.

She's looking sleek and fit, though, gobbling everything in sight and still losing weight, the stinker.
posted by Liz @ 9:50 AM     |


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