When I was growing up, my father was in the military police. Then he was Provost Marshall. I point this out because it goes a long ways toward explaining my breaking the law paranoia.
Last week I was talking with a woman at work and she mentioned that her license was expiring this year and how she hated having to renew it. I agreed and said that mine was due to expire this year as well. I was pretty lucky tho, I hadn't had to go the the driver's facility for 8 years because I had received at geed driver's sticker that extended my license for 4 years.
That evening, I was paying some bills and pulled out my license just to confirm that it did in fact expire this year. The date on the front of the license said 2005. Hmmmm. I flipped over the license and looked at the sticker. Uh oh. Four years from 2005 is not 2010. I instantly panic, because I have been driving on an expired license for 4 months. And you know now that I know, I am going to be sending out some vibe that says "pull me over, I'm driving illegally". Getting to the facility while they're open tho, can be kind of difficult. The girls' schedules don't make it any easier. I pop online to find out exactly how much trouble I am in and what I need to do, and the Secretary of State's website is of absolutely no help - thank you very much for that, but I do find out that the office that is not too far from where my kids have to go that evening is open til 7:00. One catch, I don't really know the area that well and the timing will be very tight.
Then I start to what if. What if I have to take a test? What if I fail? I won't have a license. How will I get home? Ahhhh!
I drop off the girls and speed (not really, I'm too paranoid) toward the town the facility is in. Weirdly, there are two towns right next to each other, they have the same name, just one has a directional designation, like north, south, east, west. And I have to go through one town to get to the other. I see the sign for the street I need, I turn and go about two blocks down and suddenly it's residential. What? So I start calling around, trying to find someone home to look up where I am. And the first person I can find is a friend in Georgia. For directions in Illinois. She looks it up for me, and yes, I am in the WRONG TOWN. Now time is even tighter.
She gets me going the right direction, points out that I have to pass the local mental health facility and everyone knows where that is - it's huge. I finally get there, it's about 6:40. I park and run in, explain that I'm an idiot, and literally 7 minutes later am back in my car driving legally. With the WORST picture possible.
Now I'm going to sign up for a remedial math course...