officially a california resident.

I had an 8 o-clock appointment at the DMV this morning.

I have been avoiding the DMV since we moved back to California. Three and a half years ago. It is my least favorite place on the planet. Worse than winco/walmart on the first of the month.

My Utah driver’s license expires in July and I thought I should probably make this switch back to being a California resident, since I pay taxes here and everything.

Anyway. I made this appointment last month so I could get it over with early in the morning and rip it off like a bandaid. I got up early to wash/dry my hair since hello, I was getting a new picture taken. I even went over all the practice tests last night so I could ace the written exam.  Jazz planned to go into work late this morning  and stay with the kids so I could get this hideous task over.

So I get there at 7:55, there are seriously already thirty people in line. I’m thankful I have an appointment. I get to the front to get my ticket and she asks me some questions… and asks for my marriage license. I tell her I don’t have it because I legally changed my name FIVE YEARS AGO and I stopped just carrying it around for fun. She tells me I need it and that I can’t do anything without proving that I have changed my last name since the last time I held California residency.

And at 8:15 I was heading home, breathing fire and shooting laser eyes at everyone. I was so angry. ANGRY. I hate wasting time. I am the queen of being prepared. I read over the website last night to make sure I had EVERYTHING I needed because I swear every time I go to the DMV they ask me for my last Costco receipt, house taxes, proof of flood insurance, and the stub from that broadway musical I saw back in ’97.

In my mind I decided to quit California and be a renegade and never have a valid driver’s license ever again and just NOT HAVE ONE. Because that would work. Jazz took the kids to have my car smogged, so I met him there to swap cars and also so he could make sure I didn’t hurt anyone.

Once at home, Jazz convinced me to just “drive by” the DMV with our marriage license to see if the line was long and just PLEASE go in and sort this out. He is much more peaceful than me. I wanted to “drive by” with a carton of eggs if you know what I mean. We packed the kids up and went back to the DMV. I went in to potentially get another ticket- I explained what happened and could she please honor my appointment even though it was over an hour ago and blah blah. She says YES! Progress! I get up to the REAL counter and right away the New Lady asks for my birth certificate or passport.

And this is when I became convinced that Satan runs the DMV. Directly from fiery hell, maybe has some remote operations running but FOR SURE Satan is the CEO.

I tell her I don’t have my birth certificate and that the SWEET girl this morning assured me a marriage certificate was all I needed to get this thing done. She apologized and pushed the paperwork back towards me over the counter and told me to come back.

I almost lost it.

I explained the events of my morning and I think she could see in my eyes that I was about to do the wobbly lip cry and so she told me she would ask her manager just in case. She disappeared for a few minutes and came back with a happy face, saying that they could go ahead and approve me since they have my old license on file.

GLORY GLORY HALLELUJAH.

Took my picture. Took my test. Passed. Then got the hell out.