Tuesday, 24 January 2012

Time and a Habit


Tuesday, January 24th, 2012

Time is such a funny thing. In many ways it is an artificial construct of man. Maybe it is only that, maybe not. I'm no philosopher. I'm thinking about this because I'm jumping time zones lately. Anybody who has experienced jet lag will be aware of what all this shifting does to you. Granted, I've only shifted two hours earlier, but even that will mess with your head just enough. In the end, the only time there is, is now. For that is all we ever experience. Now, I am in Kingdom City, Missouri.

This morning found me wanting to stay in bed a lot longer. I just might do that tomorrow, since I have a 12 hour delivery window and all of 30 miles to go. I drove the better part of the day in a haze, just cognizant enough to drive, but not much more than that. Keeping up the gratitude practice was difficult, since my mind was blunted by drowsiness, but we do what we can. Nebraska went by mostly in the dark. However, one thing I really sincerely appreciate is how well routes are marked. Even before I was where I wanted to be, there was as sign telling me which way to go for the next route number. Fantastic! This is why I love driving in the States over Canada any day of the week.

Returning to time once again, it always struck me as funny how we have time zones. Don't get me wrong, I understand the concept behind it. (I'll stay away from daylight savings, mostly to spare all of us a rant.) I sometimes wonder what it would be like if all times were local. Hah! That would make delivery times such a pain in the ass wouldn't it? I was also musing the other day about how the people on the west end of a time zone totally have different noons. Better still, as I drove from Mountain time into Central time yesterday, I noticed that the border was a road running north-south. I saw a house on the East (Central) side of the road. So, if they had neighbors across the street, would they really be on different time zones? Then there was a manufacturing plant of some ilk not too far away. Do people come from MST to work in CST, and how do they set their clocks? I certainly don't understand.

Another thing that comes with time is habits. I'm not going to say that all truckers develop strange habits like I have, but I've come up with some strange ones to help develop a sense of home. Sadly, this has to do with using the lavatory, as most humor does of late, but I found it quirky enough to notice and poke fun at. Whenever I am at a terminal or truck stop, I want to feel like I'm 'home' or someplace familiar. When parked for a duration, I'll inevitably have to use the toilet. Naturally I go, since the other option is potentially deadly and rather anal retentive (pun intended). Fine. Wash up then leave. Of course use a paper towel to open doors with handles, because I don't want my hand touching the same surface as some other dudes hand that was just touching his a) ass or b) unit. Plenty of people don;t wash their hands out here. That is not the habit, that is just common sense. So time passes, and I'll have to go again. Given the opportunity, I will go to the exact same stall and use it again. It has become “mine” for the time being. Urinals included. They are mine. If it is a busy night or morning, I may adopt a second stall for personal use. Somehow this makes me feel better, and I don't get why. It just does.

So yeah, time has a way of doing strange things to you, even if only a little at a time.

No comments:

Post a Comment