Dude, moving is a real pain. For seriously.

See, first of all, you don’t know where anything is when you move to an entirely new state. You might drive around in a 16 foot Penske truck to 2 hours trying to find a Bed, Bath and Beyond and instead, you’ll see the entirety of your new city, save for the one shopping center with the Bed, Bath and Beyond. You’ll hit many curbs and swear at every car on the road and probably your husband.

Once you’re moved in and all oriented with your area, you must deal with the DMV. But, before you can deal with the DMV, you must deal with the insurance. And all the meanwhile, you are still trying to deal with the State of California to get your effing marriage license corrected now that it’s been A YEAR so you can, you know, change your name and get a social security card since yours was stolen.

Oh, but wait, THERE’S MORE. Your husband’s car is in his grandmother’s name and is, of course, registered in Florida. His grandmother now lives 45 minutes away when the crowded freeways aren’t crowded and she has severe Alzheimer’s Disease, so the ability to get her to sign things is complicated. Your MIL has power of attorney, but is going to have her mother sign it anyways.

So then, you have to go to your apartment complex to get a copy of your lease. Then you have to get directions to the insurance place. Then you have to take all copies of everything important and go get insurance. Or at least a waiver telling the DMV that once your husband’s car title is in his name, he’ll have insurance. And also, learn a prayer that the DMV accepts said waiver.

And then you have to go to the DMV the next morning and hope and pray that you have all the necessary documentation to switch your registration (which you need to find soon…hmmmmm) to the state of California and your driver’s license too. And you have to do all this switching in your maiden name because you spent 2 hours on the phone with the State of California’s public records line and NEVER SPOKE TO ANYONE AT ALL and got hung up on SIX times.

And then? You can almost bet, or at least predict, that the marriage license will come in the mail in the next week so that you can get a social security card and DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN to change your effing name. Or, you know, it’ll never come and you can never EVER get it changed.

Wait, what’s that? Moving isn’t usually this complicated? Well, I’ll be damned. No literally, I’ll be damned.

Hold me.

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