It was just one of those days

All I meant to do was run down to the assessor’s office to get my 2009 homeowner’s exemption filed since someone neglected to tell me about this minor $2000 mistake.

I’m not sure who to blame, but Mayor Daley seems like a great candidate. Regardless, after the near cardiac event I had the day I received my last mortgage bill from the Bank I knew I needed to take some serious action.

Minutes on the phone turned to hours, but I finally figured out that I was at fault for a change. And miracle of all miracles, the county of cook, IL, was willing to work with me on my error provided I hand over my yet unborn kids.

I tried snail mail for a safe delivery of the necessary documents, but who am I kidding? Three weeks later they still hadn’t made it across town, so in an act of total faith, I got in my car and headed to the cook county’s assessor’s office. Turns out the closest office recently shut down despite the 10% sales tax in the State of Illinois. I barely made it to the second location in time. I noticed that I was the only person there apart from the poker faced assessor lady. She still made me grab a number and stand in line.

She called my number but I found myself unable to look her in the eye. I handed my documents over afraid to say anything, lest I upset the entire State of Illinois Union. Our neighbors in Wisconsin have done enough damage on that front. I thought about small talk but thought the better of it. I looked down and silently prayed instead.

That’s when I realized that I needed a driver’s license with my current home address on it in order to file for a home owner’s exemption. Uh Oh. And here I thought I’d be able to postpone the trip to hell until at least April 29, my birthday and the deadline for changing my current license. It’s not that I was attached to the picture or anything, it’s just that I have a severe anaphylactic reaction to the DMV.

I glanced at my watch. The assessor reluctantly handed over the information. An hour until closing, three miles down the street. I was on my way.

I floored it. I wasn’t sure what to expect at the DMV and didn’t want to take any risks. I walked into Mars and pinched myself. I really did die and go to hell. I took a deep breath and almost forgot to pray. God is grace, God is good, let us thank Him for this food. I mumbled the first prayer that came to mind and before I knew it, I was directed to the appropriate line.

I failed the vision test. My contact was blurry. It sometimes happens in dry weather.  I thought this would be the end of my purgatory, but either the lady was deaf, or she liked my hair, because next thing I knew I was in line to the cashier. He asked for $30 I didn’t have. Don’t worry, he said, just go next door to the insurance store, they have an ATM. I ran out only to find what I should have expected. The ATM was broken.

What to do. What to do.

I ran to my car and floored it again to the nearest bank. I almost ran a kid over. I didn’t buckle my seat belt. Then I silently wished I’d get pulled over. How ironic would that be. A ticket on my way to get my license renewed.

No such luck.

Thirty seconds and thirty dollars later I was back in the DMV, the place of my dreams, or nightmares. I felt like I was sleepwalking, so I pinched myself again. I’m afraid I was still awake.

The guy at the desk remembered me – the blind driver – and directed me to the written test area. My heart started palpitating, my chest felt constricted, I almost couldn’t breathe. My eyes fell on someone’s written test. Is it cheating if the DMV gives no privacy for test takers? The only road sign I knew was the stop sign. I couldn’t take the test. Then I remembered I had Steve Jobs in my pocket only to find out he’s no good in a pinch. I still couldn’t figure out what that orange hexagon meant. I tried asking the guy ahead of me in line, but it’s hard to learn how to flirt in the flash of a pan. It’s like learning Chinese on a layover in Taiwan. All I got was an angry glare from the man behind the desk.

I thought about praying, but after cursing, and speeding, and almost killing a dog, I didn’t think adding hypocrisy to the list would help.

So I did the next best thing, I asked for a book.

And as sure as the sun is shining, I was given a book.

I sat down and I studied it. Hard. And Quick.

Then I went back in line with a renewed sense of urgency, or maybe I just had to pee.

I barely passed the test. I missed the question about kids in car seats. Way to go me.  Turns out I’m not such a good pediatrician, but at least I’ll be able to drive.

Last stop was the picture test. I asked the lady about my hair. She said it looked fine. Who wants to look fine for the next 10 years on a driver’s license?  Turns out that’s gonna be me. I wish I’d worn red. But fine is just fine.

I walked out of the DMV with a skip in my step. Who knew a brand new license could bring such a high. I’d barely passed the vision test, almost flunked the written test, hated the picture test, but darn it I could drive.

The moral of the story is simple: Make sure that you see, make sure that you read, and whatever the cost, make sure you’ve the book cuz without it you’re lost.

And tomorrow, I get to go back to my friend the assessor’s. I’m sure you can’t wait to hear part 2 of this pathetic short story that took a day of the rest of my life.

So how was your day yesterday?

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