I reckon I ought to tell y’all how I got mixed up with this here, Southern Writers’ Guild business. So the stories below.
12-18-25 Well I made it back into Goshen to pickup just before the lot closed last night. I’m lucky Mary was working, as I was technically past time. I pulled in through the exit at 11:45pm. But it’s all good, she knows what’s up. I found this unit no problem and was out of her way by 11:56! I’ll finish hooking everything up before I pull out in the morning. I hate that I gotta make the other pickup with my numbers on, but I doubt they’ll know or care. And I’ve seen no signs of any kind of surveillance… Of course, I’m usually just grabbing a couple dab-pens for me and some gummies for Brooke, maybe a few pre-rolls. But it’s been hella slow this winter and we need some cash. And Tanner’s lawyer buddies are always looking for bud – pay top dollar too! I got lucky with the Omaha load, and now I’ve got just enough funds to make it happen. You know, on second thought I think I’ll get an Uber from the Red Roof down the road, there’s no reason to chance it. And I’ve got plenty of time, the coordinates Beau sent aren’t but a 7 hour drive from here. Better get this day started.
I closed my journal and checked my phone, it was 28 degrees. No wonder it was so warm — I’m used to it being much colder up here. I tipped my Little Buddy over, just enough to extinguish the propane flame and pulled my pants on. The 6 AM alarm trumpeted as I was walking into the Hampton Inn. I smiled and greeted the clerk at the desk with a, “Good morning,” just as a regular guest would, and I made a beeline for the restroom around the corner.
This was my third day out, so I thought about shaving. But decided that since it ort-to-be a fairly short day, I’d stop later and get a full shower. There’s a Flying-J just before the Kentucky line that’s usually pretty clean. Not the Deadman’s store, that’s over on I-65. I’m gone be on 75-South most of today, I reckon. I’ve got a little time this morning, the dispensary doesn’t open until 9am. So after I emerge from the restroom with my business complete, I start me a waffle and load my plate down with bacon and powdered eggs. By the time I’ve got my coffee and OJ on the table, my waffle’s beeping done.
I sit there for almost an hour — get the logs all straight, and my day mapped out. Then I hop on Substack to see what my fellow writers have going on. I run through my notifications — answer a few comments, then read and share both primalbeet and Gray’s stories from yesterday. I just love the community I’ve found on Substack — it’s jam packed with gifted and talented writers like those two, and I’m excited to get to meet them tonight!
By 7:30 I’ve finished up everything left undone from last night’s pickup, and have my pre-trip inspection logged. I’mma run with my numbers on today so my logbook has got to be correct. I don’t mind it in the grey area, but I don’t take any unnecessary chances out on the road. And since I’ll be riding dirty on this trip, there’s no room for error — everything needs to be buttoned up real tight. I map the Red Roof sitting just across the Michigan line and pull out.
