Sunday, November 8, 2009

Driving Like It's Hot

I'm not much of a rule breaker, I'm too uptight to be a rule breaker. Which is why one would be surprised to know I'm driving hot. Last Saturday I realized my license was missing. Many have said, "How did you lose your license", as if it's almost impossible, but it's far more likely for me. Let me explain...

Robert and I are cheap, so cheap that we still only own one car. It's not that we couldn't afford two cars, it's just that we don't need two cars. So every morning we get up as a family, load into the car, and drive daddy to work. Ten minutes later we're on the USAA campus for our ID check. You see USAA is a military company, with military like rules, one of which is an ID check for authorized personnel. That means just about every morning and every afternoon I pull my driver's license out and then throw it somewhere in the car. Sometimes it's the dash board, sometimes it's my pocket, other times it's my purse; an unorganized practice which has never failed me until now. Which is why I'm blaming it on this little Houdini.

Or maybe this one...

Now the other question which remains is why haven't I got a replacement? Mainly because a replacement take the effort of locating five official documents, driving across town, waiting in line for three hours in a small room, with possible sickies, while trying to tame ones rabid children from boredom, that's why! Maybe I'll muster the energy to venture out tomorrow, or maybe I'll continue to drive hot.


  1. Ha ha. How have you been getting through USAA security then? I don't blame you. I would dread this, too. Yesterday, I went to the DMV to get my license pic taken. At noon. I thought I'd be there forever. It turns out that the only thing open there was the picture place and the rest was deserted. I walked in, got my picture, and was out in 10 minutes or less! Then, David got to practice parallel parking at the "official" driving test site.

  2. Great Question--I've been dropping Rob off outsdie the gate and he walks in. When I pick him up he waits at the Apt. Complex across the street--Hence, his request to "stop dragging my feet"!