I might be out of a job soon, but yes, sisters, I’m fine

I am driving a truck. Yup, this is what things have come to. Mike is fast asleep, head lolling to the side in what looks like a supremely uncomfortable position, and I am driving a Budget truck from Lakewood to Monsey. In other words, we both might not make it back in one piece.

And in less important news, I haven’t looked in a mirror in like 25 hours and honestly, I’m scared to. Like, for real.

“Oh, Hashem!” I say for the 9,000th time, as cars seem to press way too close on either side. I’ve already been beeped, brighted, and cursed at, but I refuse to speed up. Mainly because of the precious cargo in the back, but also because I have no idea how to drive a truck and “slowly” seems to be the best option.

I try not to glance at Waze too often, it doesn’t do much for my developing ulcer, but now I sneak a quick peek. It’s 1:30 a.m. One and a half hours of driving left. That leaves us three hours of rest in normal beds, and then if we can be at the showroom by 7 a.m., we may, may, may just have a chance of having everything set up and installed before Lara and the marketing team show up. Either that, or we’ll just be there nice and punctual for Lara to fire me once and for all.

I pull into a rest stop, and turn off the engine with shaking hands. I hate this truck. I hate truckers. I hate strikes. From now on, I am ordering local only. I rummage through the bag by Mike’s feet and pull out a chocolate bar. He doesn’t stir. Time for some sugar and then back on the road.

It’s quiet while I chew, and I don’t like it. I think about waking Mike up for company but the poor guy is exhausted. Instead, I take my phone off of the dashboard and click on my silent sisters-chat. Seventy-eight new messages. I almost cry as I begin to scroll through, and then I start to laugh, quietly, to myself. They’re too much, these big sisters of mine. They’re overwhelming and interfering and let’s just say it, a bit meddlesome. But they’ve been there for me since before I can remember, and I know they’re not going anywhere.