I guess there have to be days like this from time to time. It must be in the Law of the Medes and the Persians. Or something. The first half was actually pretty good. I prayed, I had tea and breakfast, and I did the crossword in a reasonable time. I had significant email interactions with the Communications Coordinator. I gathered the documents I would need to renew my driver’s license (stay tuned) and mentally mapped out a homily for the Mass I was scheduled to celebrate at noon at the Church of the Ascension. I sent an email to the priest of my DEPO parish, where I am scheduled to visit in a week’s time.
At 1115, Brenda and I were out the door to Ascension, where we celebrated the feast of the Transfiguration a day late, and it all went splendidly well. We then hopped on the CTA Red Line train to downtown, since my notice from the Secretary of State’s office said I qualify for an “Express Service” location, and it was a straight shot. Got there only to find out that they don’t do federal standard “Real ID”-quality licenses at that location, which I kind of what I need, since I fly a fair amount. But there was another location at the Thompson Center about three blocks away, so we hoofed it over there. It’s not very well marked, but we finally discovered where the license facility is located. But when I finally got to the window, all organized and confident, I discovered that I lacked on the two necessary documents to prove that I actually live where I live. One of the papers that I brought with me was a medical bill. Not accepted. Had it been a healthcare Explanation of Benefits, it would have been accepted, but … not a bill. And never mind that the very piece of paper that they day mailed me with all the wonderful but inaccurate information had been delivered to where I indeed live, and I had it with me, because … that doesn’t count either. So, there was nothing left to accomplish there. Back up to the street and the subway station, when I discovered that I didn’t have my soon-to-expire driver’s license. Thinking that I had left it at the counter, we walked back, only to have me discover that I had just misplaced it in the binder I was carrying. Back up and over to the Red Line, stopping at McD’s for a repast. Back to the YFNBmobile in the Ascension lot, and back home, having to stop for gas along the way–the first time since moving to Chicago that I’ve had to actually buy gas in the city, with it’s inflated prices.
Home for a brief bit of refreshment, then back out. Since I was already “in uniform,” which is how I wanted to appear in the required photo, my mission was to “get ‘er done.” So we drove west to a license facility about three miles away. Everything went smoothly there, but still slowly. Right when I got back to my car, I got a phone call from my chiropractor’s office reminding my, at 4:30, of my 4:00pm appointment. Darn. I hate it when that happens. Now rescheduled for tomorrow morning. Home just before 5:00. I decided to at least symbolically redeem the day by doing the finish work (refining, editing, printing) on this Sunday’s homily. Then, Evening Prayer with Brenda, followed by Chinese carryout, since my dinner cooking plan was also a victim of the day’s events. Then, in the evening, I got to review the draft income tax return sent to me by the accountant (yes, we filed for an extension in April). It’s not a pretty picture, and doesn’t help my disposition.
Tomorrow cannot but be better, right?