It has been quite a day.
I got up early to go to an Animal Protective League meeting of the Board of Directors (of which I am now an official member...I guess that makes me a director). One member was voted off for failing to participate in any meetings since June (he was, no surprise, not in attendance). Another member (who was in attendance) was voted off for, shall we say, unprofessional conduct. Can you say awkward? (From the moment I was first approached about being on the Board, I got a bad feeling from this woman. But I figured it was just my social weirdness at play. Guess not.)
Before I went home, I swung by the bank and then, after a false start during which I realized I only have proof of insurance that expired LAST May, I went to the BMV.
The BMV is the entrance to hell. I'm sure of it.
I stood in line, presented my paperwork to renew my plates, and was told my driver's license expired on my birthday. Great. They don't take debit cards and the checkbook was at home (hence, the initial swing by the bank). I renewed my plates and left hurriedly to swing by the bank again. Returning to the BMV, I (again) stood in line...all the while contemplating the fact that my expired license was issued February 5, 2005.
I looked so happy.
I remember that morning before work. It was cold and bright...snow turning to slush...not unlike today.
It seems so long ago.
But I still remember all the little details...the way it felt...the way I felt.
As if that little trip down memory lane wasn't fun enough for one day...I (again) approached the counter, presented my paperwork, and paid my cash, only to hear another BMV worker proclaim from the end of the counter, "Don't take any more licenses...I can't get this printer to work." I waited another ten minutes for that worker's futile attempts to repair said printer. No such luck. My transaction was voided and I was given my 2005 license back.
I felt like crying.
But I didn't.
I'm not sure what that says.
I got home and loaded up my family to go pick up an antique sewing machine I got for free on Freecycle. Except my brain got things all confused and I drove to town A...the next town over...when the sewing machine was in my town all along. I only realized my mistake while driving around looking for an address we couldn't find.
After getting the sewing machine, which was right near where baseball signups were, we headed home to get the checkbook and forms required for...you guessed it...baseball signups.
Decided to get lunch and then go out to the store (we were completely out of dog food and faced a potential doggy riot if we didn't get some). Lunch from Subway carryout. LOST on the DVR. Baby Myles fell asleep. Hay that wasn't supposed to be delivered until tomorrow...was delivered today. Decided to run to the store. Snow. Went to the store anyway. Bought rum (having to show that damn license) and ice cream. Tried to achieve the perfect slacker trifecta by stopping for pizza for dinner...but the pizza place was closed (at 9pm...can you imagine?).
It's almost 10pm now and we haven't had dinner yet. Armageddon is on the TV and I'm on my second serving of rum (and am enjoying the rather warm fuzzy feeling).
But I still feel like crying.
So tell me...do you refrigerate your rum?