So after a 10-hour day yesterday, the phone rings before 7am this morning, and the Soop says, "How soon can you be here?", bypassing the 'heysorrytowakeyou' pleasantries. I'm there by 8 (when I was scheduled for 9:45).
... Short version because the Sweet Babbo wants to watch Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog.
Morning stunk. Truck broke down ~dunno why. Guessed fuel pump. Rotten loading dock at one of the stores ~ had to organize a debris field of shtuff in my way before I could load the gaylords and bins. Lunch. Brought back ice cream sam-miches to everyone and felt better. Did another run. Got off work. Mechanic arrived. A fuse had melted + some corrosion.
Day done. Sweety Babboo calls.