I bit the bullet and got the job done.
Sure, I have been carrying around this guilt for the past 2 years, but what made me finally succumb was the pressure of the paperwork.
As if having been a resident of the minuscule, pointless and *wicked* state of New Hampshire wasn’t tortuous enough, it is one of only 2 states that require a bunch of extra (and notarized) paperwork in order for license holders of the state to drive a car that is part of a company’s fleet. And since driving Craig’s company car means free gas, we take it every chance we can.
I’ve had a few different state licenses in the past 16 years I’ve been legal to drive, and I can assure you that hanging out at the DMV isn’t exactly my idea of a good time. My NH license didn’t expire until 2012, but I had seen a notary public more times in the past 2 years than others do in an entire lifetime. Enough was enough; I needed to git ‘er dunn.
I set a day where Craig could watch the yahoos, gathered my 3 dozen forms of ID, and headed out.
While I could describe in painstaking detail the woman I saw who was giving her most *frightful* very best RuPaul impersonation, or regale you with a tale overheard regarding baby mamas, prison time, cutting back on pot usage and the benefits of living near a liquor store, I wouldn’t want to bore you. Just a typical visit to the DMV, right?
As you know, the DMV takes all kinds. Anyone from the young teen eager to take the behind-the-wheel portion of her driving exam, to the retiree who has been driving more years than I’ve been alive; they all pass through the doors of the DMV.
During the 2 hours of my life I wasted in line, I was reminded of my grandfather. He lived past the age of 90, and I believe he actually was still driving when he became an official nonagenarian. In case you are wondering, insurance rates do not keep going up, and yes, you have to take regular road tests during those golden years.
One of the last times my grandpa visited a DMV, he described his behind-the-wheel tester as “an old guy.” Yes, my 90 year old grandfather described someone else as old. Kinda makes you wonder about our states’ employees, doesn’t it?
Anyway, I survived yet another DMV visit and am once again a full-fledged citizen of the State of Tennessee. And in case any of you are considering a “round trip relocation” a la Liz, you’ll be interested to know that the DMV stores your old license photo, and reassigns you your old license number.