Sunday, January 10, 2010

Too big for my britches

So, it turns out I was arrogant about how quickly I got my things together for the dossier. The state of California is fast becoming the bane of my existance. See, many of you know how I feel about California...the cost of living, the traffic, the Democrats and Nancy Pelosi...but my sweet husband was born there. Therefore, I am waiting for copies of his birth certificate. I had checked it off my list because I had sent away for them, but hadn't actually received them. Rookie mistake, apparently.

When I realized the error of my ways, I went about looking into the birth certificates. I checked my bank account and discovered they had cashed the check I sent for the FIVE copies I needed three weeks ago. I then looked at their website to see how long "processing" took. EIGHTEEN WEEKS!!! Are you kidding me? In eighteen weeks, I will already be 30. So I will literally be able to say I grew very, very old waiting for the stupid birth certificates. When I called the office, the recording said they had been furloughed. Does that mean forever? Is there no one I can talk to? For whatever reason, I picture one little washed out hippie guy manually typing each birth certificate request that comes into the third most populus state in America. No wonder California is bankrupt.

Moral of the story: 1. Don't count your chickens before they hatch. 2. No one likes a braggart. And that was me.

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