I had to deal with our favorite bitch this morning at the customer in Bedford Park, IL. 01:56 is too early for this shit. I don't think I’ve mentioned her. I believe her name is Pam. She hates us. Well, not just us. She hates all truck drivers, and co-workers tell us that she merely tolerates them. We haven't had to deal with her in a while, and I had hoped to never see her again. We suffer enough abuse at the hands of the general public. The last thing we need is to have to deal with some pissed off peon who is angry was us simply because we're there. I figure I’m doing my job. She should face the fact that she's going to have to do hers and make peace with it.

Of course, I don't know what her problem is. I wish I could muster a hatred of her commiserate with the venom she emanates toward us, but all I feel for her is pity. What must be so terribly wrong in her life that she spends her days consumer by such raw, smoldering resentment and anger toward everyone else]

I would not want to live that life. And I’m ever more thankful for the fact that, whatever my life may be lacking, it is not so bad as to make me like Pam. I hope someday she finds her peace.