Last night, on the way home, I was stopped for speeding on the motorway. “But officer!” I said, “I am SURE I was only going 95 or so!”. Turns out that the section of motorway I was on has, unbeknownst to me but definitely fucking beknownst to the rozzers, a speed limit of 80.
“I notice..” says the officer “..that you were not wearing a seatbelt.”
Ding! Speeding ticket. Ding! Seatbelt ticket. ANGER!
I was as nice as pie to the officer, taking the opportunity to say “It’s a fair cop.” to him, because I love that shit, and I bet they do too. I’ve said that while actually _being arrested_ in the past, so it’s nice to stick with tradition.
“I’m just going to run your car registration and warrant status and your license and stuff, as a matter of routine.”
No problem. Car is registered, and I got a warrant recently.
“Are you aware that your license has expired?”
DING! Huge-ass ticket. License confiscated. ANGER!
“You can drive home, and I’ll follow you to make sure you go there, but you can’t drive again until you get a new license.”
Fucks sake. Okay, fine, there’s a licensing place nearby. I’ll go there tomorrow morning and get a new one, they’ll give me a temp one while they mail my new real one out. In the meantime, a relaxing evening of WoW and surfing the net.
Except I’ve left my laptop power supply at work. ANGER!!
Annette kindly drives me to work to get it. She’s so stressed out she cries. It’s my fault. ANGER!!! AT SELF!
I search the internet for what paperwork I require to get a new license. I need ID, and some other shit. I go to the place where I keep my passports. They are Not There. I search the apartment. Can’t find them. ANGER!!!! I punch a door. It does not help, and it makes me feel like the kind of fuckwit that punches things. I resolve to not do it again. I find a photocopy of a notarised version of my birth certificate. This will suffice.
The next morning, I step boldly out of the shower onto the wet floor of the bathroom. I hilariously fall, taking the impact on my elbow. ANGER!!!!
Annette drives me to the licensing center. They do not accept photocopies. ANGER!!!!!!
Annette drives me to work. I hope she finds her way home OK.
My elbow has stiffened up so much that I now can’t really move it. Fortunately I could feel this coming and have positioned it in a 45-degree bend so I am in an ideal typing and WASD-key operating stance.
I order a new birth certificate. The time to print out a copy of a piece of paper is _eight working days_, plus two more days “To mail it out”. ANGER!!!!!!!!!
This has not been a winning 12 hours for me, so far.