A few nights ago I was watching television with Tom, something I hardly ever do. Usually, when the kids go to bed, I head for the computer or grab a book. I am not a big TV watcher. And I hate watching TV with him because he channel surfs. And as soon as I get interested in something, he changes the channel. But he stopped on National Geographic or something and actually started watching a show about truck stops. I was hooked.
I fell in love with those fancy truck cabs that have a whole living space behind the seats. How cool is that, to park your rig and step back through a door and be home for the night? Some of them have granite countertops and nicer furniture than my living room. The one they featured had a 42 inch plasma screen TV. I am now on the market for one.
Ok, I don’t do any distance hauling, but I haul my kids all over town. Driving my children around from practice to practice is a lot like hauling livestock. After being outside all day for band/soccer camp, they certainly smell like livestock. So occasionally, I would like to be able to pull off, kick back and snooze in a recliner in front of the Weather Channel in between trips without having to go home.
Today John had to be at school at 7:00 a.m. Amy had to be at soccer camp, located in the bowels of Mountain Brook which has no street signs, at 8:30 a.m. I had to pick her up at 12:00. I have to pick him up at 4:00. She has to be back at 5:30. He has to be back at 6:00. Then they both have to be picked up at 9:00 and Tom has a meeting tonight. I am tired just typing this.
The schedule repeats every day for the rest of the week. Only, on Wednesday, I am taking a troop of Girl Scouts to Savannah to worship at the Juliette Lowe Birthplace. Thanks to her, we have sit-upons and Thin Mints and all girl scouts are required to go and pay homage. So we are leaving at 5:30 in the morning and we’ll be gone until Sunday. I want to quit my life.
And the easiest way out of this is to get a CDL and be a truck driver. Tom has been nagging at me to get a job, so he can’t complain about me driving a truck. I can imagine climbing up into my rig, settling my ball cap on my head, and hitting the open road, just me and my truck. No kids, no husband, just miles and miles of open interstate.
I feel sure I can learn how to drive a truck, as long as I only have to go forward. There is no way in hell I am backing one of those things up. I would probably take out an entire town trying to drive in reverse. And I am only going to take flat routes in warm states. No hills or ice for me. So I guess I’ll truck things between here and Oklahoma. That’s all pretty flat, right?
I’m not sure what I’m going to truck. I used to like those “Smokey and the Bandit”movies with Burt Reynolds. Maybe I’ll transport Coor’s. Does anyone drink that anymore? Or maybe I can haul something girly like beanie babies or mascara. It has to be something light becuase I don’t want to have to pick up big things. I’m sort of lazy that way. Maybe Kiki or Teensy or Gina will hire on to be my sidekick (sort of like Dom Deluise or Jerry What’s Name) and they can unload the truck for me, while I sit in my Lazy-Boy after a hard day of driving.
As soon as I find a truck driving school, I’m enrolling. You can keep your nice little white collar jobs. I am going out to bond with Billy Bob and Earl. I will be one of the people. I will eat slabs of chicken fried steak at greasy truck stop diners and shoot the breeze with waitresses named Shirley. So if you see a big rig weaving precariously down I65, you might want to pull off and head in the other direction in case it’s me.