It’s been that sort of day. We had an audit walkthrough today, all across lunch. And the weight measuring group thing didn’t go so good for me. Then that production failure and the process-dripping patch. Just problems problems problems.

While driving towards the crete-heap of Oburg with its snarled traffic, I really felt the urge to get off at my exit and just go home, to have dinner and play Spelunky or read or whatever. I wasn’t in the mood for the scheduled ops. But we make our commitments and hold to them, so into the swirling hell of traffic I went.

But dinner with the boys was nice. We had a good turnout at the club. By the time I’d finished cleaning, the callboard was filled up, every train taken. Well, all but one. There sat Silver Bullet 1 on one of the Boundbrook track 1, ready for its 5:30am departure. the train was already set, a dun-colored PA boxer, the Erie Lackawanna road. Yes, the train owned by my nemesis, the ever-annoying JW.

But it had to be run and my own engines were not close-at-hand, so why not. The unit ran smooth, the traffic was rolling, and we were up and through Harris Glen in no time at all. It was a total pleasure that lifted all the work-related downside, even though I had to sit on one of those paper toilet seat covers while driving it. After all, it was Erie Lackawanna, right?

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