Frazzled

It has been one of those kind of days. The kind you hope are not repeated any time in the forseeable future. It began as I walked outside and noticed the tags on my car .. clearly marked November 2013. 2013? How did that happen? I seemed to have some vague memory of sending off the registration form but that was back in September. I spent a while searching for the records ... to no avail. All the time grousing to myself because I should be working on the sewing project I was in the midst of, not dealing with the tags of my car. As I searched, my son began following me around asking questions and making suggestions for how I should spend the day. Trying to ignore him as I continued to get the things I needed, I could feel my stress level rising by the second. Escaping from the house I went out to the car to get my proof of insurance and as I climbed out of the car I dropped it in a large deep mud puddle, where it instantly turned into a sodden mass of pulp and ink. I looked at the mess in my hand and sighed.

Going into the house I began trying to call my insurance company to see if I could get  a replacement as I was also trying to look up the DMV hours of operation. I waited impatiently but finally they e-mailed me a replacement card. So gathering up what I had (the proof of insurance, the tear off from the form I had sent in and of course last year's registration) and ran down to the church to print the card off.

It was when I plugged my computer, that I remembered that when I left on Wednesday the printer had decided to not print. Snarling at my printer and telling it that it was cruel, I spent the next 15 minutes troubleshooting why the printer would not print. Finally, thought the card was printed and I was on my way to Dallas to go the DMV.

As I drove I realized that I had been driving around for 3 months with expired tags and no one had noticed. But I felt sure that at any minute I would be pulled over and given a ticket. It was when I headed down the Dallas turnoff that the policeman pulled in behind me. And he followed me for 6 miles through city traffic. Finally thought I pulled into the DMV parking lot and he drove on. It was with relief that I actually headed into the building.

Walking into the DMV I got my number and just about fainted. My number was 115 and the number they said they were serving was 5. I was relieved to find out a couple of minutes later that they were actually serving number 105. It was as I settled back to wait that I realized I had left my phone .... somewhere ... hopefully at home. So the time that I could have checked my e-mail, updated facebook and even texted to friends, I sat there reminding myself that all of this was my fault. How could I not have noticed my tags did not come in, and how could I have left my phone at home?

But finally my number was called and I explained that I thought I had sent my registration form. She punched it into the computer and sure enough the end of September they had received everything from me. So after filling out a few forms I headed out the door with new tags in my hand. Right there int he DMV parking lot I put the new tags on and breathed a sigh of relief.

So ... with one disaster averted i made the trek home. And though I had lost the entire day to my sewing project, at least i was driving legal and that was surely worth something.

So here I am tonight, a bit frazzled around the edges, tired and oh so ready for some peace and quiet. But what I actually have is ... the dogs barking at the deer in the field and my son watching a zombie movie at full blast. This is probably as peaceful as it is going to get.

Sigh ....

Just Connie