The 440 Is Not A Ring Road

I don’t really like to drive. I think it’s that tiny margin of error between commuting and death that really bothers me. I try to accept that while the rest of the world sees “run out to the store” as one smooth action, I see it as a series of almost insurmountable tasks. Back out, merge, change lanes, park, etc., all done with my white knuckles at 10 and 2.

In addition to not liking the actual driving part, we had paperwork from three states to deal with in order to get  me licensed, get our car back on the road, insured and registered in NC. We couldn’t insure the car because we needed to register it in NC, but Stick couldn’t get the car registered without an original social security card, I have my social security card but the car’s in Stick’s name, so we’d have to transfer the title but it’s an out-of-state title, so first we’d have to… nevermind, no one in their right mind wants to read through it all.  When Stick called to put me on his AAA card, he was told they don’t cover girlfriends, only fiances. (And if anyone from AAA fraud is reading my blog, you can take it up with Don Fransisco.)

Things are getting better, though. I managed to turn the radio on the other day, and pretty soon passengers will be allowed to talk in the car.

Related: Stick’s Sabado Gigante proposal!