So I was going to go when I was looking a little more "together" than I was yesterday but I had an anxiety attack in the early afternoon that I would crash the car and it wouldn't be my fault but they wouldn't care because it must be my fault if I am driving on an expired licence. I had to go.
Now let me set the scene for you... I had intended to spend the day at home, just me and the kids, no one to see me. I hadn't showered. The kids were in fine form and I felt that it was probably safer to skip the shower than to risk leaving them "alone" in the house while I took 2 minutes to shower. I didn't think I smelt but you can never be sure when it's your own odour you are wondering about. My hair was disgusting. REALLY disgusting. So I added another layer of deodorant and hairspray and I brushed my teeth. I still felt gross but I was hoping I was hiding that from the rest of the world. I dreaded the thought of taking two small children to the Dept. of Transport. So I did what any
So off we troupe with one car each to play with and our greasy unwashed stinky trail behind us.
There is about 10 counters at the Dept. of Transport for serving their adoring public. 2 are used solely for allocating tickets numbers to said public, now down to 8 counters, 1 is taken up by the big photo machine, that leaves about 7 counters. 3 were closed. We are down to 4 counters serving their not so pleased public. 1 is only for dealing with those taking their written or practical driving test. Yep, 3 counters for their now turning feral public. So I fill out my form, get my number (2 counters? really do they need that?), and sit and wait for our number to be called. Andwaitandwaitandwait. I get called up to be served but not before my kids have crawled around on the disgusting floor, rested their faces on the disgusting floor, shoved their cute little fingers in holes that go to who knows where and contain who knows what. The chick that serves me didn't like me in highschool. I have no idea why. She was cool and sporty and I was not. That is about all I can come up with. I was hoping the sea hag appearance and the change of surname was enough to throw her off so she didn't get all dramatic about my licence being expired. I knew she had two options, plow through one more transaction and just renew it or ask questions. I was praying. Thankfully she either didn't recognise me (perhaps the stink lines wafting up from me like in the cartoons threw her off) or has turned into a customer service clone and she just renewed it. When I saw the photo I thought that perhaps she had remembered me and had photoshopped a sea hag onto the picture instead and then I remembered what I had seen in the mirror just before I went out and it all made sense. I do have some weird black flecks all over my face, they are all over the rest of the licence too, not attractive. So, 40 minutes later, licence in hand, kids still being well behaved we headed off for their reward... through the drive through. I wasn't letting anyone else get too close, just in case.
All that to say, I was really proud of my sweet little boys waiting there for all that time. I remember going there with my parents (and they haven't updated the decor at all, just provided seating to appease the waiting masses) and thinking it was quite possibly the most boring place on earth. I still think that about the place but my company made it all a lot more bearable.