Top: Ann Taylor; Skirt: c/o Lulu*s (similar); Heels: Michael Kors (similar); Clutch: GiGi New York
I avoided getting my driver's license switched over to Oregon when we moved (technically should have been switched to Washington and then to Oregon after graduating from college), due to the massive hassle of going to the DMV, so I've been living outside the law for almost three years now! Whoops! It was finally time to bite the bullet and go get it switched over so that the Hawaii jury duty summons would stop coming to me, thousands of miles away.
The only issue is that to get an out-of-state license switched over to an Oregon license, a knowledge test is required consisting of 35 random questions about horses and flashing red lights and what color line on what edge of the road indicates a what kind of curb. And you have to pass with 80%. So I actually spent this past weekend studying for the damn knowledge test, like I was 15 and a half again and trying to get a license to drive my parents' Accord.
The problem with me, a DMV, a process outside of my control, and a test that requires a passing percentage otherwise a repeat trip to the DMV, is that I have an anxiety disorder. So I panicked for about a week prior, getting upset about everything possible that wasn't the driver's license test, trying to talk myself out of it and losing sleep. I'm crazy. Stupid. (No love, but crazy and stupid reminded me of that movie Crazy Stupid Love that I used to love)
When I finally got to the DMV today and had to wait at least an hour to get my license renewal started, I passed the test easily and there was seriously no reason to have fret about getting a new license for three years. My Hawaii license is no longer and I have a gorgeous mug shot to decorate my new Oregon license forevermore. No struggle beyond sitting in the uncomfortable DMV chair wishing there was a public restroom in the building. But actual struggle and actual fear? That's not how anxiety works... It feeds on your most bizarre and irrational fears and develops real ones from the reaction to the irrational ones. It's crazy. Stupid. No love.
In the end. It's done. So I'm signing off for the night, yours truly, an Oregon resident.