Department of Malicious Vipers

Ohhhh, the glorious to-do lists of an unemployed, childless, dogless wife. Many are the sticky notes and spare pieces of paper that get scribbled on and subsequently discarded among the cold coffee grinds and shriveled grapefruit halves of the day. I wonder how many to-do lists I've gone through in my lifetime and the percentage of tasks completed compared to the percentage left incomplete. Or how many times I've written the same task on a list: laundry. groceries. work out. Or the same item to obtain: q-tips. deodorant. milk. We shall never know. One thing I did cross off my list today, only to write it on tomorrow's, was to visit the beloved Department of Motor Vehicles. I went to Social Security yesterday, so it is official. No more Smith. But today, the task was to go to the DMV and get a North Carolina license as well as change my name. I had it all worked out. I brought every conceivable legal document I could think of--I was prepared to give blood or pee in a cup if I had to--and I did, of course, have all of the right things. Except that I haven't taken the written road test since I was fifteen. I was told by multiple people that I would only have to take the "signs" test, (you know, where you press your clean, sanitary forehead against the greasy, grimy machine to make the screen light up and tell them "railroad crossing, school, stop sign" etc.), but no. I had to take the (DUN dun dun) written test. And since I thought I would have time to wait (like you do when you go to the DMV every time) I also thought I would have time to study this so-called "pamphlet". I passed the signs test, administered by a man who had an ongoing narration with my information as he was typing it into his little computer. He kept saying things like "and your beautiful eyes are...green. and you were a little bundle of joy on, let's see--when was it? Oh, November... and you are clearly a blond. and..." yada yada yada--you get the point. Interesting. That's all. So, I proceed to the computer that's flashing "MARY ARMSTRONG" and of course I'm like, who's that? But I sit down any way and take the durn thing, only to find out that, indeed I would have loved to have had at least an hour wait at the DMV this morning only to prevent myself from having to come back tomorrow. I FAILED. Boo. I missed six out of 25 (you have to have five or less wrong to pass), but to be fair, the questions are HARD. Like what percentage of fatalities is attributed to alcohol related crashes? Why is it bad if your exhaust pipe is leaking? (Is my name Jimbo? Am I wearing a jumpsuit covered in grease? Didn't think so--leaking is bad because it's bad! When you say "car" and "leaking" in the same sentence it's never good, everyone knows that!!) What's the punishment if you get caught drunk driving?, etc. So. I have to go back tomorrow and do my thing again. Only this time, I've got a pamphlet. I did get even by telling them that their signs machine was disgusting and a hazard to my health. So there.

Welp. Better get studying. Tomorrow's only a day away.