WORRY WART

If you can solve your problem, then what is the need of worrying? If you cannot solve it, then what is the use of worrying?

If you ask Craig, I can be a worrier. If you ask me, I'd say it's not so much worrying as it is wanting to have control. I am a control freak. I stand before you and freely admit it. But I'm learning to go with the flow. I have to, or I'll drive myself crazy. Yesterday, after we had unloaded, we received a dispatch to a new company that manufactures boats that we have not dealt with before and on top of that, it was a load going into Canada. Right away my mind starts.....I wonder how hard it is to get to their location, what are their loading facilities like, will they have all the paperwork we will need, etc etc. Already Craig's "don't bother me with questions we don't have answers to" protective shield has been activated around him. He has learned to tune me out and I have learned to ponder these questions inside my head where me, myself and I are happy to entertain these thoughts.

Craig had called prior to our arrival to see if there were any special route to their plant we needed to be aware of with the tractor trailer. He was told which exit to take off the freeway and which streets to take to arrive at their plant. I guess what they didn't think would be helpful, was the fact that they shared a driveway with an apartment complex and they had no real visible signs announcing their location. Oh, except for a little 1 foot by 3 foot sign to a chain link fence, which unless you are standing right in front of it, you can't see it. It came as no surprise to us that we, of course, passed it by, but Craig pulled as far to the right on the two lane street as he could and I placed a quick phone call. A very nice young lady answers the phone and the conversation went something like this:

"Hello, We are suppose to pick up some boats but we can't find where you are located at. We are in front of 3208 Main Street, where are you from there?"
"That's not our address we are at 3220 Main Street"
"Yes, I'm aware of that, we are in front of a great big white concrete building, where are you from that?"
"We are next to it"
"Okay, I don't see anything other than this concrete building and an apartment complex beside it"
"We are behind the apartment complex"
Thinking to myself we are finally getting somewhere "Oh, so we take the driveway of the apartment complex to get to you?"
"Yes"
"Thanks, we're backing up now"

As I got out of the truck to stop traffic, Craig started slowly backing up. Most cars didn't want to stop and found ways to go around, until I just got stubborn and stood right in the middle of the roadway with my best white glove traffic officer stance, left hand up in the air and a look on my face that said "don't mess with me". Without incident Craig was able to maneuver the turn into the little driveway, but not without rearranging a bit of their dirt and taking it with us on the trailer. Upon stopping, I took our broom and did a little housekeeping of my own getting rid of the evidence.

.

A short six hours later, (insert sarcasm here), we had four boats loaded onto our trailer and I was handed the paperwork, none of which had the familiar Canadian Customs forms I was used to seeing. Since it was nearly 10pm, no office people working, we were left with trying to catch a few hours of sleep and take care of the matter in the morning.

As soon as the bewitching business hour of 8am rolled around, I was trying to get a hold of the Broker dealing with our border crossing. Alas, upon my first phone call, the answering machine gleefully informed me that she was on vacation. Drat, listen to the phone tree, push button for the operator, explain dilemma, get transferred to another Broker, foiled again, another answering machine. Silent scream, deep sigh, I leave my message and wait for a return call.

In the meantime, we get a call from our Dispatcher Katie who tells us that they will handle the paperwork with the broker, as long as we get to the dealership on Wednesday. Seems like a fair deal to me. Apparently the four boats we are hauling have expectant owners anxious to get their boats, and who can blame them, these are some very nice boats.

Within minutes we are told our Customs paperwork is completed and has already been accepted and we are clear for our border crossing. I'm thinking now would be a good time to buy a lottery ticket. A quick stop at the Company yard for fuel and to pick up the aforementioned paperwork and we were headed to the border.

.

As Alfred E. Neuman would say, "What? Me worry?