There are certain acronyms that evoke a reaction in people. No one wants to hear from the IRS. The FBI wanting to sit down with you for a chat completely unsettles you. Hearing that the SEC is interested in learning more about your trades in your investment account might bring Martha Stewart to mind. And if anyone tells you they need to go to the DMV, you more often than not commiserate with their plight.

A little background first. I have had a tough year mentally. My OCD ran rampant, and it has only been recently that I feel like myself. So, any activity that was the least bit anxiety provoking sent me into a tailspin. It was not pretty, but
I survived. So, when I got a notice that it was time to get my driver’s license renewed, my first thought was to give up driving. Not very rational! Oh, and if I wanted a Real ID to allow me to travel via airplanes, extra paperwork was needed.

Both my husband and son had been through the process. The process is not a problem, but the always crowded waiting room is. Carey spent about an hour and half waiting for his turn. The DMV takes your phone number and sends you a text when it is your turn, and you can see where you are in line by clicking a link on your phone. Jack got his rather easily. It took him 20 minutes. Just enough time to play with his phone and his number was up.

I, however, always anticipate the worst. I can be a rather doom-and-gloom kind of person. So I prepared myself with the needed documents, and off I went to the DMV by Deer Creek. I registered by typing in my name and phone number and picking the reason I was there. Before I could do anything else, I heard ‘Patricia H.’ That was me! Or maybe another Patricia H., but the kind woman behind the desk confirmed I was the one she was looking for. I handed over my documents. She looked through them thoroughly. Gave me a vision test and then told me to stand up against the blue wall for my photo. As regular readers know, I suffer from RBF, but as she snapped, I smiled. I paid the fee for the new license and was out of there in under 10 minutes.

When I got home, Carey assumed I had not yet gone. Wrong! I was done and had a photocopy of a smiling Patty to prove it. He was excited for my good fortune. I, however, had prepared myself for this arduous task and needed to lie down on my bed to let the built-up doom and gloom pass. It took about an hour!

So, thank you to the DMV for such efficiency. Thank you, dad, who I was praying to that I make it through the whole process without doing anything embarrassing. I cracked my doom-and-gloom attitude, if just for 24 hours, but it felt great. Let me know if you want me to come with you to the DMV. I think I might be good luck. But do not call if you hear from the IRS, FBI or SEC. You are on your own. Peace my peeps!