Northbound on I-65, north of Indy. I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, like heading out to be tried before the Grand Inquisitor or something. The sun will be up soon. That means I'll have to deal with the first shift at Bedford Park. That's where all of our enemies are. That'll mean that Stan will have crawled out from whichever damp rock he spends his off-duty life under.

I am so not in the mood. And Ray expects us to switch out a trailer for these fucks. Shit, Ray'll be lucky if we pull their fucking loads much longer. I am tired of having this gloom hanging over us because we never know what to expect at Bedford Park. And quite frankly, I'm afraid I'm going to snap one of these days and do or say something rash.

I dread going there today, and I resent this feeling.