When I got to the yard yesterday I put my truck in the shop for routine maintenance. I also mentioned a couple of minor issues they needed to address, one of which was a bit of an oil leak which I thought was just a minor problem.

Turns out the rear main seal is leaking so I had to take the truck down to the engine shop. Again. Replacing the rear main seal is no small task. It involves, among other things, taking out the transmission.

I am laid up in the hotel waiting to hear about the truck. I am hoping they can manage to have it completed today. I'm not holding my breath though. I figure it won't be long until dispatch calls and wants me to help them out with something using one of the older trucks we keep parked at the yard.

I hate working out of a truck other than my own. Things are in different places, or not there at all, and it's just too disorganzied and throws off my work rythm. It's a waste of time just searching around for where the chains, binders, and other tools are located.

I walked over to Applebee's last night for dinner and a couple of adult beverages. My ass had no sooner hit the seat when my former favorite bartender turned manager who had been transferred to another location came running over to give me a hug. I was happy to see her and especially happy to learn that she had been transferred back to this location and was now managing it.

It was kind of funny because between her hugs, hugs from a couple of the others, and handshakes from several of the guys there were some people watching all of this and wondering just who the hell I was. One guy asked me if I used to work there or something. The look on his face was hilarious when I told him that I was just a trucker from Florida who stops by now and then.

I hung out at Applebee's for a little while and then returned to the hotel. I was feeling pretty tired from the run out to Cali and back and wanted to get some rest. I managed to sleep in a bit this morning. I woke at around six, looked at the clock, said to hell with that, and went back to sleep for a while.

On another note they have finally set the surgery date for my mother. She'll be having it on May 9th. They said she'll definitely be losing her voice box and have her going to a speech therapy class to learn what she'll need to know before the surgery.

That makes sense to teach her ahead of time. I'm sure it'll cut down on the frustration and make the transition a little easier for her. And like she told me on the phone, "it's better than being dead". I think that pretty well sums it up.