Unsteady Uproot – “Get your drill away from my car” (Wednesday, September 11th)

My sole purpose for living today was to get my driver’s license in this state and figure out how to mount my extra license plate. Because I bought my car in a state that only requires ONE license plate, I now have to figure out how to mount another one, which stinks because I already checked with one auto parts store and they don’t have one that will fit my particular car. IN FACT they suggested that I merely bolt the thing right into the body of my car. What now? They actually wanted to drill holes into the body of my car. If the dude wasn’t quite so cute, I would have bopped him over the head for suggesting such a defacement to my car.

Oh, Martin, no one ever wants to drill holes into the body of their car. No one.

Heed my warning, if your local driver’s license fairy indicates on her magical fairy dust webpage that you can “get in line online” what she probably means is that if you don’t get in line online then you will wait to get your drivers license for THREE HOURS.

Which is exactly what I did. Because I did not heed the warning of the drivers license fairy. To be fair, many things happened – including a crush-inspiring doctors visit, a terrible rain+wind storm, plus the worst stomachache I have had in a long time (seriously could not move for hours) – in between gathering materials for my license and heading out the door for the office. SO. Yeah, wasted three hours sitting in line to get my new drivers license.

On top of that, I discovered in a not so sanctimonious way that my host family that is giving me temporary lodging while I get on my feet is PAYING FOR INTERNET BY THE GIG. Apparently, I used several gigs of their internet over the last couple of days which cause an overage of $80. I’ve never purchased a set internet amount. I pick the speed, pay my internet bill, and use as much as I want. That’s all I’ve ever known…

And on top of THAT, it makes me feel snooty to be sitting on my bed working while two women clean every inch of a room and bedroom that I should be cleaning myself. I honestly have no clue what kind of income they make from groundskeeping and housework, but sometime inside of me is desperate to be like —- “None of this is mine. I don’t deserve any of this!!! I would be living in my car if these people hadn’t offered me a place to stay!!! My normal day-to-day life does not include maids and gardeners!!!!”

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