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2015-09-23 - 2:10 p.m.

The state of Texas puts you through the rigors if you want to have a driver's license here. I have come to the appalling conclusion that I cannot prove who I am, where I was born, if I'm a citizen, if I've ever been married, and I can't find my divorce decree to prove I was divorced. The only thing I do have is my current driver's license and my original social security card. In Texas you have to prove you are a citizen of the US, even if you were born here and have never been out of the country. Even if you can produce tax records from the last dozen years. ::sigh:: I cannot find my birth certificate, marriage license, or divorce decree. I used to have this one drawer where all my important papers were kept, but I don't own that piece of furniture anymore and I've moved twice since then. You would think I'd designate a spot for keeping important papers, but you'd think wrong if you thought that. Cause I didn't.

This is just what I was talking about before. I need a personal assistant to keep up with my details for me.

So, the DMV is off my list for this week. I've decided to get my out of state license renewed to buy me some time and then I can receive all my important papers from the various places where I'm ordering them from and I then go convert it to a Texas license when I can prove who I am and that I have a right to reside in the US of A. I am not proud of this poor handling of my business. I bought a house for the love o pete! I thought I had to prove a thing or two for that process. I looked up all my house buying records hoping my birth certificate and divorce decree would be with it, but no. Nada.

Well, the upside is I can put all this DMV unpleasantness out of my mind for the next week. I'll worry about that on my birthday.

Recently, the nephew had to climb up on a chair to change the batteries in 2 chirping fire alarms. Today, the third bedroom fire alarm started ceaselessly chirping and I'm too short to shut it up. I stood on a chair and reeeeeeeeached for it, but alas... short girl problems. I'm not really short. I am amazon-like at a statuesque 5 foot 5". I like high ceilings, but dammit, that chirping is driving me to drink. I can't wait for my lanky nephew to get home and fix it. It's just hopelessly out of reach for me. I'm listening to the chirp every 15 seconds or so. Oh how I hate a repetitive noise like that.

I have a ton of work to do and I must get after it.

If you see my Butler, please advise him to get his ass back here, Pronto!! He's in big trouble, Mister.

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