Sunday morning. Georgetown, Kentucky rest area, north-bound side on I-75. I've driven 218 miles. I'm tired. I'm sleepy. I'm blown out on this truck and on driving. It's been a hell of a week, and I just don't want to be out here anymore. This is the fourth straight week that I've felt like we were pulling teeth. All I want to do is sleep, but I've got 400 miles to go before I can stop. We're going to be as late getting home this week as we were last week. And since we're also facing the prospect of switching out a rejected trailer for those bums (our customer) in Bedford Park, we may even get in later this week.

Yes, I've considered the possibility that they rejected that trailer because I'm the one who brought it in. Even though I apologized to the guy and we shook hands, that doesn't mean that some of the assholes up there would pass up the opportunity to do something mean.