Last Tuesday I turned 32. That sounds kind of old, especially since I still feel about 25 and according to most people, look even younger than that. (This last probably has less to do with wrinkle-free skin and more to do with the fact that I wear gym clothes a lot, don’t wear make-up and still have long hair that is usually in a ponytail) I will probably return from Publix depressed indeed the day that the cashier no longer asks for my ID when I purchase wine. But I know the day is coming. But anyway, I actually love being 32. I don’t feel sad at all about getting older.
I wish that I could report that my day began with some kind of celebration, but in fact, it began at the DMV (yes, I do mean the Department of Motor Vehicles). My driver’s license expired on my birthday and I had to renew it. You may legitimately wonder why I waited until my birthday (the last day to renew before the dreaded expiration) to perform this most odious task. Well, therein lies the answer. Does anyone actually look forward to the day she has to report to the DMV? Not I. And so, I admit that I put this chore off as long as possible. Of course, I had planned on taking care of this a couple of weeks ago, but I discovered that my birth certificate (now one of the many required forms of identification necessary for renewal) was still at my parents’ house and had to be mailed to me.
So I found myself leaving my children with Hannah at 7:50AM in the hopes of getting a new license quickly right when the office opened and returning home by 9:15AM when Hannah would have to leave for class. When I arrived a few minutes after 8AM, I was astonished and chagrined to see the line of 15 people waiting outside the door. When I finally got my number 626, it was already 8:30AM. The first number I heard them call was 604–fifteen minutes later they called 605 (no, I am not exaggerating). I began to feel a twinge of panic, not to mention plain old annoyance at the bureaucratic mess that is currently most governmental institutions.
After a lively debate with a Jehovah’s witness man over the deity of Jesus (This occurred as a result of my general nosiness. I asked an older gentleman sitting beside me what he was reading, and we began discussing the Bible. I became increasingly more aware of my need to know Scripture more than I do, so that I could quote chapter and verse about important truths like the Trinity. The JW man was quite prepared to argue his points, but I found myself scrambling a little.), I decided that there was no way I was going to get a new license within the allotted time I had unless I took some drastic measures. So I approached a young couple who had been ahead of me in line and offered them $10 to switch numbers with me. I tried to look as desperate as I felt and in my appeal also told them it was my birthday. The girl gave me her coveted #618 (they had just called #616) and I gave her a ten, my #626, and a heartfelt “thank you.”
At this point, I began to have hope of making it out of there in time to get home before Hannah was late to her class. Alas and alack! When my new number was finally called, my excitement quickly faded into keen dismay as I realized that the person taking care of my renewal was not the trained specialist I had hoped for but rather a trainee who had to be told when, where, and how many times to “click” the mouse. (She was a very nice woman, btw, and I’m sure she’ll make an excellent DMV employee.) Needless to say, I did not make it home on time. (Sigh)
I ended up driving Hannah to her class at Santa Fe so she wouldn’t have to waste time parking (she was still 15 minutes late though…oops!), and then I picked her up an hour later.
Despite the fiasco that began my birthday, our family was able to have a fun celebration on Sat. We went to the pumpkin patch, and then we had chocolate cake and presents. My wonderful husband gave me an immersion blender, a reading light for my Kindle, and a meat thermometer (I like these kinds of gifts so don’t think he’s unromantic). He also very kindly and generously gave me a gift card to the mall, because I haven’t bought any new clothes since before Ty was born…he’s probably sick of the blood donor tees I’ve been sporting..haha. And then we went on a date that night. It was actually quite a memorable birthday in the end.
