Part of my night is being spent on a picnic table near the shop. The truck is in for repair and can't be slept in. It rained today, so this area smells like wet, moldy garbage. I feel like I need three showers, and I'm wondering how much sleep I'll get before we have to take our next load. There was talk of a hotel room due the repairs needed. It didn't happen. My mentor is sleeping in her car. I don't have a bed of any kind set up for the van. I'm still having trouble parking the trailer between two parked trucks like in a truck stop. I can back into store docks mostly fine without help. I only have a few days left here. Maybe two. I put most of my belongings back in the van in case we have to use another loaner truck tomorrow. I'm pretty tired, and there's grease on this hijab too. My eyes feel swollen and itchy.

I'm in my 4th week of driver training with my mentor. My body clock is so messed up, I'm not sure if I am supposed to try and go to sleep again or stay awake for the night. She's such a good mentor, she won't tell me. I'm supposed to figure it out on my own as our training time together winds down. Earlier, we did five deliveries this trip and it involved a night, a foggy morning, a farm and now it's night again. We are 90 miles from our final destination. Tonight, she let me run my clock out with 10 minutes to spare to teach me a lesson. She was right, and I won't risk that again. She's a very good teacher, the Mr. Miagi of truck driving: quiet, unknown, unassuming, skilled, and powerful. She deserves several articles and more. I wish I had two brain cells left to run together to write them.

I understand stacking sats, but I also want to make sure I'm stacking letters.

My toad friend was ran over. Three spaces over was a random underwire from someone's bra. The truck in front of us has the word “Lizzie” across the back. It's 2:00 am and I’m not sure I want to know what happened.

There's 5th-wheel grease on my hijab.

Driving a semi truck is somehow starting to bring back some of my creativity. Maybe it's because the enormity of the job is crushing unnecessary noise and I can finally hear myself again.