“Oh shit,” I said to myself. “Self, you need to go get your new photo license before you get on the plane tomorrow, because your old one expired last week.”
So I found the new photo card, grabbed my purse and ran downstairs to make it to the license center before closing — but my battery was dead.
My battery was dead because for days, I had an “open door” sign that wouldn’t go away. I never made the connection.
Fortunately, my landlord had one of those chargers. “Don’t you have a passport?” he asked. “No, I’m an American,” I explained. Anyway, he hooked up the charger and after 15 minutes or so, I was on my way. I got there just before the place closed, and even though I was out of breath and my hair was flying all over the place, at least I have an official ID and can get on the plane tomorrow.
What I really need is a wife.