First stop was the county tax office to make my third attempt to get new license plates for the truck. I have grown to hate this place.

As you can see, it's a fluorescent light and civil servant hell. If I had to work here every day, I'd go mad.

I was armed for bear with a shiny new specific power of attorney form, but alas, everyone was extremely pleasant (this time). Might have had something to do with all the legal looking bits of paper I had with me and the look on my face that said “go on, ask me for something you think I'm not expecting.” Anyway, mission finally accomplished! Added bonus? The truck is one of the last vehicles in the state to be issued this plate design. Going forward, they'll all be boring plain white with black numbers. I was excited. The husband is peeved. He prefers the boring ones.

As I pulled out of the tax office parking lot, I realized I was in the vacinity of my favorite warehouse of booze and had just enough cash to grab a large bottle of Irish cream (you get a 5% discount when using cash), and so I did just that. Somewhat disturbingly, I was not asked for my ID. I'm trying to decide if that's because I'm cute enough to not bother, obviously look old enough to not bother (but not too old to flirt with), or look like an old women so why bother. Or maybe it's that the guy recognized me. I recognized him, so, you know, that's possible. It's not like I don't shop there regularly.

Now I'm sitting on the couch in my very quiet living room enjoying a nice glass of Irish cream. I saw no sense pretending I wanted coffee with Irish cream, so I totally skipped the coffee. What I wanted (and am having) is a nice glass of liquid relaxation. I totally deserve it. This week has been one annoyance after another. I may have a second glass. I would totally deserve it too. LOL!

You know what else I deserve? Delivery pizza.