I can honestly say up until now there aren't too many things I put off. If something needs to get done then I do it. But it seems that when it comes to anything child support related I sort of skirt around it. I'll do this but not that and since I understand that the process isn't exactly a quick one I continue to keep giving myself a "pass" here and there. So this week I decided that I would get everything together and do what I should have weeks ago & finally get the process started.
I paid my application fee. Have all the forms filled out, printed & ready to be signed and notarized & copies made. Everything seemed in order and I was scolding myself for my dilly-dallying. There was just one last piece to puzzle to add, which was at home & has been in my possession for about two weeks, Elle's birth certificate. When I finally open the envelope there is no birth certificate to be found. Instead I see the paperwork I sent (including the envelope that I had put everything all nice and neatly in). The reason my request was denied said because I failed to include a photocopy of my identification=WRONG! That I most certainly did but what I did do was gyp the Department of Vital Records by five dollars. So instead of being at the Office of Child Support Enforcement bright and early I was fighting traffic to get to the Department of Vital Records. To keep myself from banging my head against the steering wheel I took pictures of my agonizing drive.
There was the bus that was definitely taking up more of my lane than I felt comfortable with. Leaving me no choice but to take up the next lane. Luckily, it wasn't very long before the bus turned and was off terrorizing more tiny streets of downtown.
Since I took my sweet time leaving the house I faced a painful amount of traffic. As I approached a sea of brake lights I realized this drive was not going to happen via the highway. I had to take it to the streets. Which meant one red light after another. Looking at things from a glass half full perspective I would have never been able to do any of it without my tom-tom, for that I'm thankful. Because it would have taken no time at all for me to pound the steering wheel in angst and start crying.
It was here where I was under the impression that I was close. Incorrect. What I wasn't able to get a picture of was the stop sign that I passed three times. First, as I went the wrong way; again, when I made the wrong right hand turn; then that last time as I finally made the right I was supposed to. Since I was clear to go I thought I not piss off everyone behind me.
Finally, almost an hour and a half later...I arrived. I circled the parking lot twice before deciding that I had to park in the "employee" parking lot. All of the public parking was taken and something told me that parking in a spot of a staff member would get me towed pretty quickly. I know if I had the honor of having a spot of my own, marked "Admin. Asst." I would certainly have the tow company on speed dial.
If you think the fun stopped there rest assured it didn't. Upon walking in I had to fill out a form and wait for someone to come to the window and fulfill my request. I couldn't have been more frustrated looking through this big (gl)ass window and watching every person look at me and then not go back to work but go back to the conversation they were having. It's called customer service ladies! Not too terribly long after ringing the bell someone appeared and just minutes later I had Elle's birth certificate.
A five dollar mistake cost me all of this. XOXO