Frustrations

Sometimes, you just have one of those days.

I logged on this morning, only to discover that Facebook has undergone a "facelift" that reveals every detail of my friends' actions to me. Not that this information was a real secret before, but I at least had to make the effort to stalk them. Now, everything is revealed in an annoying ticker.

Do I care when someone writes on my wall? Yes.

Do I really need to know when an elementary school classmate breaks up with her boyfriend, when I didn't know they were going out in the first place? No. Do I need to know what groups my roommate-turned-Postulant has left today? No. (Do I want to know how she did it, seeing as there's no Internet access at the convent? Yes, actually, but Facebook doesn't bother to tell me that. Silly ticker.)

After griping about it myself and reading everyone else's gripes (are you listening, Facebook?), I went to the DMV to get my license renewed. Granted, I'm not going to need this license - it's not like I'll be joyriding around Scotland any time soon - but I thought it would be prudent to renew it now.

There were 25 people in line. Two women were working the counter. Each transaction took approximately five minutes. Do the math.

An hour later, having ended our conversations with the cranky people in line all around us, my sister and I made it to the counter. I told the woman I needed the corrective lenses restriction removed from my license, since I'd had that fixed. She told me she needed a detailed doctor's note. My protestations that my wearing contacts while driving would be a very bad idea went unheeded. She snapped the picture, rang up the purchase, and I whipped out the check I'd filled out in line to save time. Unfortunately, it being my parents' check, she needed to know one of their license numbers. I asked to pay by debit, but no, Visa and MasterCard are only accepted at the counters that renew tags. Eventually, she allowed me to call my mother (contrary to the signs all around prohibiting cell phone use at the DMV) so she could take the check.

All I want to know is why her half of the building cannot take a credit card when the woman next to her could, why no one seems to move at a speed above "amble" at the DMV, and why Alabama makes things more difficult than they need be. The man in front of us, who had lived in Illinois and Florida, raved about how quick their DMVs were, but I never heard the end of it - the posted signs weren't too clear, and he discovered he'd been in the wrong line for the past hour before he could finish.

In happier news, the new season of House premiers tonight!