First the truck becomes even smaller. A mathematical ballet of sorts must be performed every time someone changes position, since there's only about 4 square feet of floor space.
A. Driver seat.
B. Passenger seat.
C. Four feet of floor space
D. Bunk
1. Himself
2. Me
3. Jasmine
It basically goes like this:
While driving, 1 and 2=A+B and 3=D unless 3 is eating, then 3=C. If 2 needs to make a sandwich then 3 must equal B or 2 will have a hissy fit about her bubble being intruded upon.
Sometimes 3+1=A (as shown in figure 1a)
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| Figure 1a |
Standard Operating Procedure wherein 1+2=AB-3xD (as shown in figure III)
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| figure III |
Next, the fat lazy Tumbleweeds have to walk. A lot.
Without a dog the day went something like this:
Wake up. Eat. Drive. Eat. Drive. Eat. Sleep.
With a dog:
Wake up. Walk the dog. Feed the dog. Drive. Stop and walk the dog. Drive. Stop and walk the dog. Eat. Walk the dog. Feed the dog. Walk the dog. Sleep.
And lastly I have to regain my ninja skills. I do the final walk the dog in the evenings alone to give Himself a chance to relax without me nagging him finish his log book and catch up on paperwork. I like the evening walks, just me and Jasmine. She's a really good listener and always agrees with me. She thinks I'm quite smart.
At most truck stops we can usually find a field, some woods or other non-peopled place. I try to give her a good walk, not just a quick pee in the nearest grass but I also try to stay in well lit places. The closer we are to cities we are, the more wary I am. Hobos in the bushes that want me to pet their red-nosed pig, I do my best to avoid.
I carry a knife. I try to look confident and like I would be too much trouble to mess with, (I am). I put myself in the frame of mind that if I were to be attacked, it will be a battle to the death, where I fight dirty and win and not wait around being a nice polite girl and get kidnapped by a sociopath who chains me in his basement, starving me so he can make a suit out of my skin. Not gonna happen.
I believe this mind-set will serve me well.
One time I even squared up to face a two men who looked like they were trying to flank me. They were approaching in my direction as I was walking along a fence when they suddenly split up and came toward me from different directions. I put my back to the fence, stood firmly facing forward, my hand on the knife in my pocket and assumed a "I will kill you" look. They walked right past me. Oh, yeah. I'm tough.
In truth, I don't even think they saw me but I have a really active imagination and I had already plotted out the fight, their death and me being interviewed by 60 Minutes, Chuck Norris giving me an award and Angelina Jolie playing me in the movie about my brave fight.
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| Ima go all crazy T-Rex on you! |
