How I Ended Up Crying in an Empty Church Parking Lot

I knew I needed to get a Texas driver's license. I figured there was no point until we had a permanent address to put on it. Not until I was signing papers to close on the house and the lady making a copy of my license said, “Do you know that your license has expired?” did I realize that I needed to get a move on.

Of course, right after the closing we had our hectic several days moving from apartment to house. I stopped by the DPS office soon after (because I couldn't get anyone there to answer the phone) and asked what all I would need to have with me to get this process done. Turned out, I needed to have my vehicle registered in Texas before getting a license. And turned out, I needed to have the vehicle inspected before I could get it registered.

And turned out, I needed to replace the tires and update the insurance before I could get it inspected. (They also said I needed a current and valid photo ID – I was about to panic about that Catch-22, but thank God, the inspection guy didn't say boo about my expired license.) While he was out of town the first week we were in the house, hubby worked on getting our insurance taken care of and finding the best price on tires. So, I got the tires replaced . . . got the inspection done . . . got the van registered . . . and finally, yesterday made it to the DPS office again with all my required paperwork in hand.

Or so I thought. After waiting to see an agent (a short wait, I'll admit) and waiting while she checked over everything and signed various items, she suddenly asked where my marriage license was. Uh . . . nobody told me I needed my marriage license. Turned out, I did. So, I drove home, got it, drove back, and waited to see an agent again.

Waited through the paperwork again. Did the computer touch-screen driver's exam (86.6%, thank you very much). Scheduled a road test for 2:20pm yesterday afternoon. (No, I did not know going in that I was going to need to take a road test – but whatever.) Then I went home for lunch and a short nap. (Did I mention that I am still lousy sick? Yeah . . . )

So, I drove my third trip of the day back to the DPS office for my road test . . . only to be informed by my tester (after he'd already started paperwork and looked over my brake lights and all) that he couldn't give me my test because I didn't have my Texas tags on the van yet. I showed him I had them in the car with me – I just got them yesterday! No go.

I tried to smile. I went in and scheduled another road test – the earliest opening was Thursday morning. Then I drove to the empty church parking lot next door to the DPS office, sat in my car, and cried for a while.

Now, I realize it is ridiculous that this should bring me to tears. I have friends in the hospital right now. I have friends with seriously ill children. Friends with teenagers on drugs. I have friends who have lost their jobs . . . friends whose marriages are on the rocks . . . even in light of the trials our own family has gone through for the past couple years, this is minimal.  I know all that.

But you know, maybe it's a woman thing. I just needed to cry. As I've said before, sometimes, for a woman, crying is like sweating. It's a release of tension. I just had to get it out. Then I pulled myself together, stopped for a pack of Twinkies (don't judge me) and went to pick up my daughter.

And yes, I drove with my expired Iowa license.  Lord help the cop who stops me -- he'll get an earful.