This is what trucking was supposed to be
We’re still in Clarksville and sitting in a motel watching World Series of Poker. Eating pizza. And watching Maggie enjoy her first motel room. She has jumped from bed to bed about 800 times. Then she has to stop to posture aggressively at the “other” dog in our room. Coincidentally, the other dog seems to hang out in the same part of the room where the full length mirror is hung.
In the morning I have to take the truck over to the Volvo to try to get the fan motor replaced. I’m torn as to whether I hope they can or can’t fix it in the morning. I suppose I should hope they get it fixed so we can get back out there on the road, but there’s always this part of me that hopes we’ll get one more freebie day off.
Stace is the same way. We’re not very good representatives of our hardworking Puritan ancestors. At least Stace feels guilty hoping for another day off. That’s something at any rate.