I have become so invested in my novel lately that I almost thought I would be waking up this morning and working on that. And that’s when I realized that today was Saturday and I better write something that’s at least somewhat entertaining.
I can start with this: I walked into a customer last night and he said he was very happy to see me. I asked him why that was and he told me the last driver from my company who showed up there told him that I had been fired and I was in rehab. But seriously, what can you expect from truck drivers who live in places like Rifton or Modena?
Women have gotten a bad rap over the ages for being gossips, but that’s only because it was men who were in charge of the narrative for so long. As far as I’m concerned, I have never seen more haggard old wash women than I have at a truck terminal. The moment I thought I may have run into a serious problem, the lips started wagging.
I ATE A DAMN GUMMY.
I have a feeling that if I went to any of our local rehabs and told them I needed a bed because I ate a gummy, they would give me a pamphlet for Narcotics Anonymous and tell me to call that number. Now granted, if I was in Florida, they would ask what insurance I had.
I’m not sure if you have been following the news on the whole marijuana thing, but it has been very interesting. Personally, the thought of ingesting THC was so far off the radar for me four months ago, I can’t begin to explain. It just wasn’t something that fit into my very busy and serious life.
But there I was, probably researching something on YouTube when this company from California showed a commercial for these gummies. The guy looked like he was having such a wonderful time. Walking through a trail in the woods with a big smile on his face, building a model airplane, staring at his belly button–I was like “I need more of that kind of time in my life.”
The simple truth is, the commercial did exactly what it intended to do. The problem, as I’m sure many of you already know, is that a person can eat a single gummy on a Saturday afternoon and be sent to take a random drug test, weeks later, and be in a lot of trouble.
As many people have reminded me over the course of the last ten days, I don’t have to be a truck driver. There are many other jobs I can have that do not require me to answer for everything I do, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s likely one of the reasons why I earn quite a bit more doing that than most anything else I’m qualified to do. I mean, I’d hate it if my supervisor from my job saw this, but I even saw an ad for his job. I make more than what they pay him.
That’d really piss him off to know that. Probably just as much as the fact that they are advertising his job on Glassdoor. This isn’t very surprising though. I’ve been there for six years and I have had at least a dozen different supervisors. The turnover for that job is right there next to the drive through window at McDonalds.
Still in all, I will tell you this: I still don’t know where I stand with my job. I have been existing in a very strange and uncomfortable place lately and it hasn’t been resolved yet. Most likely, I will put down the gummies and fall in with what is required of me. Like most Americans, once I started making a certain amount of money, I learned that I couldn’t live without it.
Gummies are fun but they are not worth $300 less every week.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that I was my happiest when I was 100% free of all chemical additives. The problem was I was so happy I even annoyed myself. There is a very real part of me that despises the whole goody-goody persona.
So as much as the last ten days have been stressing me the hell out, there’s something about it that is very familiar to me. “In trouble” is where I have spent half my life. Thinking I was “in trouble” is where I spent the other half.
Being “in trouble” gives a person no other choice but to act. You simply assess your situation and go about the business of repairing it as best you can. Worrying just eats away at you because there’s nothing you can do but wait for the anvil to fall on your head.
If there is a way through this, I will find it. I have those latchkey kid survival skills. As for today, it’s best if I forget about all of this and be present with my children. If I have learned anything, it’s that I may always be in some kind of trouble but they won’t be young forever.
And they didn’t eat the gummy.
I did.
Agreeing with Jann here, do what you will...learn & live. I don't think it's any coincidence that somehow we've all made it this far, at least the ones reading your offering. This decade, our 50's, is made for rediscovery. Collecting, collaborating & creating what we not only need most, but what we want most, as well. Allow and expect some trouble here and there to guide us into uncharted territory :) xo
I was laughing and worrying-if you lose your job, but thoroughly enjoying this entire piece. Eat the gummy, if you want, but know there can be consequences to pay. So are you driving now, or are they deciding what to do with you and your gummies? And, there may be work you can do, pay the bills, see your children and live a life you want. But whatever, write that novel.😎