Loose Ends, Long Waits, and Second Acts

Standard

The only thing I hate more than loose ends is multiple loose ends. Loose ends represent instability and uncertainty, they are the fringes of the chaos and confusion that perpetually threaten to overwhelm the necessary stability and order of our lives.

There are several big projects in my life right now, well under way, some years in the making, and all of them various stages of incomplete. My ability to handle pressure has always been a big question mark and the past few months have tested the strength of my resolve.

I’ve sometimes felt as if I’m a person at the edge of functional, who kept things together mentally or otherwise by careful management of his resources and emotions. But in the past few years I’ve determined to sail beyond my safe waters, beyond the established boundaries of my known limits and at the risk of failure.

Am I built for this?

My new career is the first part of this stress test. I definitely have the basic aptitude for truss design and have become reasonably proficient at using the engineering software. However, with my proficiency, and changes in the truss market towards residential, the expectations are high and the workload has ballooned.

More recently it has become a make or break it moment as the construction season wraps up and a new prospective customer has piled on, who refuses to give the information that I request and seems to have very little respect for my time. He wants a “conference call” after every small revision and email, every conversation with him is circular and I’ve reached peak frustration in dealing with him.

However his project does promise to be one of those signature projects, if it ever gets underway, and the truth is that I really want him to be pleased with the work we do. It’s just that right now it is impossible to know if he’s just going to be an endless hassle, who tries to micromanage every part of the process or if he’ll become more cooperative and less doting as things progress. I’m not holding my breath.

There are days where I could be tempted to turn back, return to the proverbial Egypt of truck driving, and not need to deal with the pressure of always having to get things perfect. In trucking, a few spilled beans is just a few spilled beans. But, in this job, if I enter my numbers wrong here I could have the truss equivalent of “Galloping Girtie,” a very costly disaster and would need to bear the shame of my failure.

Of course, then again, an accident, for a commercial driver, can be a felony offense and especially if they can prove that you were distracted at the time. So maybe I’ll stick to the possibility of big financial losses for my company and potential of losing my job over sharing a cell with Bubba because the dispatcher needed answers and a silly “four wheeler” decided to use the same exact moment to check my reaction time?

I’ll stick with tapping the keyboard where there is less chance of me dying trapped in the burning wreck of a big rig, where I can be home at night despite a long commute, and my coworkers are Amish and awesome people. My hope is that eventually that will grow to the point where they can justify a second designer, so I can breathe a little and at least have the possibility of a day off or even working from home. It is a work in progress.

When will it be finished?

In the midst of everything else, I am (with the help of a more construction qualified friend) preparing a place. For many years I’ve lived comfortably in a small house, my bachelor pad, but for various reasons have decided that it is the right time to make a move.

First, the opportunity presented itself in the form of a “for sale by owner” sign along the path of my Saturday Dunkin coffee and donut routine. It was an upgrade from my current residence in terms of square footage and yard space. But it was also in severe need of a remodel, with cracked plaster, evidence of past leaks showing on the ceiling tiles, and other blemishes.

So, with the bank on board and price being right, after consulting some contractors, I went forward with the purchase.

Obviously, being that this is not only my own money involved and every month I wait to move in is a loss of a rent check plus the cost of utilities, there is a strong desire on my part to get the job done. That said, it will also be my own personal residence, the future “bhest nest” for my loved ones, there is also an equal desire to get it right the first time and thus speed was not the only concern.

As such projects go, we are behind schedule and threatening to go over-budget. But, at the same time, I have confidence we are doing it right and not cutting corners. For example, the old “knob and tube” wiring could have simply been covered up, spared us that extra week or so of work and the added cost, yet this is the place where I plan to sleep, keep my accumulation of things, etc.

I’ve also decided that working with a contractor is preparation for a having a wife. They don’t spend money like I do. They seem to see my wallet as being a spigot from a bottomless well, spending a thousand here and two thousand there is no big deal, whereas I’m keenly aware of every dollar spent and who will be slaving away to accommodate their excess. I’ve never told them no and they still call me tight—perhaps a warning against hiring (or marrying) friends?

Oh well, I’ve been every bit annoying as the customers I would complain about, I’ve made frequent visits, had things reworked midcourse to suit my preferences, and fussed about the lack of progress. I’m sure we’ll both be relieved once the travails of a major remodeling project are behind us, at very least the pressure will be off of me once I’m moved in and temporarily not hemorrhaging cash like a politician trying to buy votes. Ultimately, the best kind of project is a finished project!

Building towards that simple and happy life…

The bhest is yet to come. Everything up to this point I do and will be made worth it all when the big moment finally arrives. At this point I’m just getting all the pieces into position for something far greater on the horizon.

It has been a sort of an intermission period, with one act over with the next act yet to begin, and he waiting for the curtain to open has been my grueling, seemingly impossible, task as of late. There is much anticipation of things to come, but also as much anxiety about how things could go wrong (as so many did in act one) and I’m simply ready to get started with this next significant and very long awaited stage of life.

I had once wondered how Jacob could have labored so many years for the woman he loved. But now that I’ve surpassed his fourteen years, I’m not so much impressed, that’s puppy love. Besides that, he had a companion for half that time and also knew what was waiting for him at the end. I never had a Laban in my life. I’ve never had a father who let me prove myself or work for the love of his daughter nor any reason for hope other than my own stubborn refusal to quit.

In fact, I longed for something definite, some kind of clear path towards the Promised Land, and always ended up staring into an uncertain future. It is easy to fight dragons when you know that the princess is waiting for you in the castle. But it takes real courage and character to continue to fight despite the fears that a more profound loneliness and more terrible depression could be the only reward waiting at the end of your struggles.

Just an undefined waiting time is bad enough. It is the thing I hated the most about driving truck. I would much rather be told a specific time, even if it is a long period of time, than a “we’ll tell you when we’re ready” or some other non-committal response. I mean, how do you plan for an indeterminate period of time? Do I crawl back into the sleeper only to be woke from my sleep five minutes later? Not knowing confined me, it limited what I could do, and did not allow me to prepare.

It remains to be seen how the lingering conflicts of act one will be resolved. Questions still remain that I hope can soon be put to rest. But right now I must focus on tying up the loose ends, working through the stress of the interim, being patient and trusting that the right answers will come in due course.

Will the impossible be made possible?

Stay tuned!

Awaiting Resurrection…

Standard

Nobody enjoys waiting and especially not for an indefinite period of time. This is why “progress bars” were invented to give hope to the user of electronic devices, through visual means, that their patiently waiting for the completion of a download, file transfer or update will eventually be rewarded and they can be on their way again.

There is nothing worse than waiting with no indication when or if the wait will end. Even a false assurance of an end (many progress bars do not speak the truth and are there simply to keep us from giving up) is better than waiting for an indefinite period of time.

As a truck driver, there was nothing worse than the undefined waiting period. I hated when someone would give me an ambiguous answer rather than a defined period. I would rather hear something concrete, even if it meant hours of waiting, than “soon” or “we’ll let you know” because those are words without commitment, that both keep you tied down and discontented.

Knowing when a wait will end or, at very least, that there is something at the end of a long wait, goes a long way towards making the wait more bearable. It can help one be prepared for that moment when the end of the wait arrives. At very least one can know how long they must distract themselves, if it is worth sleeping or when to set the alarm.

Currently, I’m stuck, once again, in one of those indefinite waiting periods and wondering if this one is indeed different from the others or just another delusion that will end in pain. So far I have busied myself in making necessary preparations, stubbornly holding back any doubts, but it is impossible to know if there’s any progress towards an end or if this too will end in catastrophe.

The next couple of years promise to be the launch of a new phase of my life and a close to a chapter that ended in devastation. In a very literal sense, something died in me a few years ago, having my sincerest faith so casually cast aside by those whom I had trusted my life with is a mortal wound, made it impossible to know my up from down, and I’m still awaiting resurrection.

Hope or heartbreak, only time will tell where this all ends…

The End of the Run

Standard

It is my last day on the job with Northern Tier Transportation and, appropriately enough, I’m stuck at Mt Pocono waiting on a load.  This week has been a proper end to eight years of hauling commodities.  It ended where it began.

For the first few months driving I had been making a regular run of ‘midds’ (wheat middlings) down from a flour mill in Mt Pocono to Cooperative Milling in Gettysburg.  

That regular trek up and down the foggy interstate 81 through Harrisburg, sometimes stopping at Cracker Barrel or Perkins, abruptly stopped.  It had been steady work for months and then circumstances forced a change.  

That has been the pattern.  We establish a regular ritual, rates change, and it is on to something else.  Nothing lasts forever in the trucking industry.

But the past couple weeks I’ve been to Gettysburg again for the first time in years.

This week I had two runs to Gettysburg.

A trip down memory lane.

The quirky guy with a mustache who once unloaded me has since retired.  However, there are some things that have remained unchanged, like the driver ahead of me and his complaints about the lack of urgency.  Hourly mill workers and truck drivers have a different time perspective.  We need to get unloaded or else we might get stuck waiting overnight if delayed.  They clock out go home at the end of their day regardless.

I also said goodbye to Brenda.  I will miss my hour long chats with her while getting loaded with poultry meal in Moorefield West Virginia—I have been been there twice a week with consistency over the past year.  She took over (after the prior load out guy left his wife and ran off with a female truck driver) and knew how to get things done.  I was impressed by her management compared to her predecessor.  I hardly ever had to wait.  We quickly became good friends and her encouragement has meant so much for my confidence.

Anyhow, last night I had anticipated this.  Mt Pocono is unpredictable and there was inclement weather on the way.  However, it was already late when I unloaded, I was out of hours, and so I left for my last load into the snow early this morning instead.

It was not too bad on the road besides other drivers.  I was impatient because a minute too long could mean getting to the mill after rather than before another truck and add an extra hour or two added to my work day.

It is Mt Pocono where I learned “hurry up and wait” or a phrase truckers use to describe the contradictions too common to the industry.  In other words, the times when your dispatcher tells you to be there yesterday and then (after moving heaven and earth to get there) you arrive ahead of schedule only to end up waiting hours.  I call it “Camp Pocono” because I’ve spent many hours here waiting on product.

The wait also means that I will need to find a way to clear my tarp (at a place that prohibits any reasonable way of accomplishing that task) and that is not something that I’m looking forward to.  Had there not been a line, with hours to wait as they make feed, I would not have to imperil myself by crawling across the canvas with a broom.  I will not miss that.

Overall my experience has been good.  I appreciate my boss, Ernie, for his putting up with my high expectations.  I respect him for what he has built over the time I’ve been driving for him.  He went from one truck and trailer when I started to a decent sized company today.  I am glad to have contributed to his success and appreciate all he has done for me.

Well, I’m probably going to be here until 5:00pm.  There’s a restaurant at the top of the hill and I’m a frequent customer.  It is good exercise.  I don’t get to choose where I am and would rather be home (a little over an hour away) than here, but I plan to make the most of my time.  It is time for some lunch.  Into the snow I go.

God bless!