January 29, 2004

• Oh boy, what a helluva day. [/sarcasm] I did a trip up to Gunstock – it was a freaking STUDY in BUS ENVY. I’m sitting there minding my own beeswax, scribbling and scratching like a madman in my writing tablet, when this heavy engine catches my ear and I look up and see a late-model MCI coach coming in. It swings around and parks next to me, and I try not to look at it and compare it to the jalopy that I’m driving. And as if THAT weren’t enough…fifteen minutes later, THREE FUCKING PREVOSTS come trundling up the way and line up in a nice neat row right next to me. And here I am, sitting in my blasé Blue Bird CSRE, trying not to look at these huge fancy motor coaches that I won’t ever have a prayer of driving because frickin’ UNH doesn’t want to pay for ‘em. Blargh…if somebody had shown up driving a Setra, I probably would’ve backed into the damn thing on purpose.

  
  

  The world ain’t fair.

  
  

  But I don’t care.

  
  

  I’m a poet and I didn’t know it. You know, it’s utterly satisfying to be able to give Old Man Winter the finger, let him make no mistake that I’m tougher than he is.  And what else is utterly satisfying? This Gunstock trip was a mixed blessing: I didn’t have to attend the dispatcher meeting tonight, which means I didn’t have to be in the same room with the Perfect Little Princess for the better part of an hour trying to restrain myself from decking her when she goes off on a prattlefest. She’d better not be expecting any favours this semester as far as hours go.

  
  

  Speaking of hours, permanent schedule is out – as usual, almost everybody got shafted…when I say no permanent hours, I MEAN no permanent hours. But what do I get? Closing dispatch on Wednesday and opening routes on Friday. Worst opening route (7:05 Newmarket) that I could possibly get, to top it all off. I drove that run for two years and sorely wished I could just use my bare hands to stop the absolutely ridiculous volumes of traffic you encounter on that Godawful run. Definitely gonna rig Mark’s office door with a bucket of mozzarella now. At least having Keith for my access bitch on Wednesday night should ease the pain some…

  
  

  Please, God, let employment at Amtrak be fruitful and exhilarating.

  • 9:39 pm
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