I was lucky enough last week to have a birthday, the only downside of which turns out to be that my drivers license expired, which means that today I had the lovely opportunity to pack up James to head off to the DMV.
The Department of Motor Vehicles is one of those places where, I am convinced, the Fates work against you. I don't know how they do it, and I don't believe that they work against me only, but I am convinced that they delight in thwarting your every move to make it through with your patience intact.
Upon first arrival at the DMV, I pull into the too-small parking lot at nearly the same time as at least 6 other cars. All of us begin circling around looking for spots -- of which there are none. After searching for a solid 10 minutes I finally find a spot at the furthest end of the lot. As I hulk my 50-lb carseat with baby and diaper bag in tow, the line of cars looking for parking has disappeared and I, of course, pass 3 open spots on my way into the building.
Once inside the DMV the first thing I notice is the long line of people waiting for a number. I, luckily, made an appointment "to save time," but alas the line for people with appointments (that currently ends right at the door) is even longer than the line for people without appointments. As I stand, still carrying the 50 pounds of baby and carseat, I get to watch the convenient monitor that tells you how long the wait time is at every nearby DMV ... all of which are, of course, shorter than the one I'm at.
Once I receive my number I then get to wait ... and wait ... and wait. About 40 minutes later, the number right before mine comes up. I get excited and wait for them to shortly call my number. Another 5-7 minutes goes by before finally my number is called, followed shortly by the 5 numbers after mine. As I pass the original line (which had been all the way to the door) I can't help but notice that it is now empty. After some review, my paperwork luckily passes inspection, I pay my fee and am told to move to Line C ... which currently ends at the back wall. I lug the carseat (now filled with the diaper bag because the baby is now in my arms) to the end of the line, and every 30 seconds I move it another 2 feet forward with the line.
When I get to the front of Line C, they take my picture and give me my test. With sleeping baby in one arm, I take the test (carefully, so that I don't fail and have to come back again to the DMV), and then move to Line D, which reaches only halfway to the back wall (though is now longer than Line C that now consists of about 5 people). But, courage! I am nearly to the end of my trek, and I patiently try to smile back at the sympathetic looks people give me when they see my adorable sleeping baby in my arms and think optimistically of how many muscles I am building by carrying around 20 pounds of dead weight for over an hour ... instead of thinking about how quiet the DMV has suddenly gotten, how short all of the lines I have already gone through are, and why didn't I come at 11:30 in the morning rather than 9:55?
And so, Fates, you may have won a few small battles along the way, but in the end my quest was successful, I am now a licensed California driver, and I don't have to return to your pernicious playground for another 5 years!