via Mimi on Pinterest
Anyway, the day started with us hunting down a photocopy of his ID, which we needed to get a replacement copy of his social security card. We went to a county office, waited in the line which was (thankfully) shorter than usual, still got called up to the window three times before actually being helped, and then finally got a copy printed. And it was horrible. You couldn't even see his face. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to fly, but we headed over to SS because we really needed to give it a shot.
And after going to all of that trouble, the SS office wouldn't accept copies - which, realistically, I expected. But logically, they gave us a temporary card (which was basically a printout with one of their workers' signatures) to take to the DMV to get a new ID (which they wouldn't give him with his social security card), and he then has to bring his ID back to the social security office to get a replacement SS card.
I think I'm getting a headache.
We finished at the SS office, went to Walmart (which is next door) to pick up some food to cook ourselves for lunch, and went back to the apartment. My head got closer and closer to the table as I waited for the pizza to cook. I barely finished a slice before I went to the room and passed out - remember that I had 30 minutes of sleep? I was dying.
|It felt something like this.|
Source: deshow.net via Huong on Pinterest
Also, I don't know how you act when you're sleep deprived, but I'm pretty ridiculous. I was laughing hysterically at things that only deserved a chuckle...if that. Like telling Boyfriend that I hadn't slept and was probably going to crash the car? Yeah, like that. I laughed and laughed. He laughed at me, but not at the situation. He asked me to please not crash.
I thought that was funny, too.
Anyway, we went through yesterday morning's big ol' mess because he had an interview at 2 yesterday afternoon; I only got in maybe another 1 1/2 to 2 hours of sleep, but at least it was something. And then I drove him to Tulare for the interview. Which the manager, "Shawn", set up himself, mind you. But when the girl behind the counter called and asked dear Shawn when he would be back from lunch, he said he was leaving for the day.
How very professional.
And what a waste of sleep deprivation. Like I don't have months of this to look forward to? I hate you, Shawn.