First of all, you could write a Substack about buttering a piece of toast and I would read it and probably laugh out loud at least two or three times. But the DMV is a freaking gold mine, esp. if you're old enough to be a member of the AARP and you have to deal with the surreal weirdness of explaining that you are not, in fact, an emancipated minor needing a learner's permit. And oh man, did you get a lot of gold out of that mine!
I loved every word of this—the way you captured the surreal, molasses-slow rhythms of the DMV, the fact that the posters that say the exact opposite of what is actually happening, the emotional gut-punch at the end. All of it. Thank you, thank you for deciding it's time to get your shit together and write more. It's a gift to all of us.
Also, not that you asked for advice, but I have the same exact internal monologue every time I write anything and I have found that what helps is... just actually writing. Like, the more I write the more it feels like a part of my routine, which I know is what all the writing advice says to do—JUST WRITE, FOR FUCK'S SAKE—but I am here to tell you that the advice works, and it only took me a couple of decades to buy in.
I love the crap out of you! And you speak my love language, “Just write for fucks sake!” I cannot thank you enough for support - I probably would have quit this a while back if it weren’t for you!
I was at the DMV 2 weeks ago, and as they have every time for the last dozen years renewing, they said "Oh, you have a commercial license, an ambulance drivers license, that's the problem..." Of course I always act surprised and ask "when the last time I renewed that, I forget?" and they check..."23 years ago," Really how much of a problem is that?
Despite the poignancy of your underlying message, I found myself literally laughing out loud. At almost 78 years of age, the same questions continue: who am I, what am I, do I matter? Somehow confronting those questions at the DMV is downright funny!! An anthology, Christy - please!
Once again, a great piece. And on a day when I'm staring Imposter Syndrome right in the face. Who am I? What am I? Sometimes it's like you're writing just for me. Thank you.
Love this. I could read your writing for hours and hours straight and never be bored. And yes, Harriet at the DMV would’ve been perfection. Add a Christmas sweater, even better.
Great piece Christy! I thought, do I really want to go to the DMV again? And then I took your hand and had a great time discovering sometimes you never know where the most valuable lessons will come from..
You hit it out of the park. Finding wisdom at the DMV. We can always learn something from anyone if we look and listen.
First of all, you could write a Substack about buttering a piece of toast and I would read it and probably laugh out loud at least two or three times. But the DMV is a freaking gold mine, esp. if you're old enough to be a member of the AARP and you have to deal with the surreal weirdness of explaining that you are not, in fact, an emancipated minor needing a learner's permit. And oh man, did you get a lot of gold out of that mine!
I loved every word of this—the way you captured the surreal, molasses-slow rhythms of the DMV, the fact that the posters that say the exact opposite of what is actually happening, the emotional gut-punch at the end. All of it. Thank you, thank you for deciding it's time to get your shit together and write more. It's a gift to all of us.
Also, not that you asked for advice, but I have the same exact internal monologue every time I write anything and I have found that what helps is... just actually writing. Like, the more I write the more it feels like a part of my routine, which I know is what all the writing advice says to do—JUST WRITE, FOR FUCK'S SAKE—but I am here to tell you that the advice works, and it only took me a couple of decades to buy in.
I love the crap out of you! And you speak my love language, “Just write for fucks sake!” I cannot thank you enough for support - I probably would have quit this a while back if it weren’t for you!
I was at the DMV 2 weeks ago, and as they have every time for the last dozen years renewing, they said "Oh, you have a commercial license, an ambulance drivers license, that's the problem..." Of course I always act surprised and ask "when the last time I renewed that, I forget?" and they check..."23 years ago," Really how much of a problem is that?
I love this. Ditto what all the others said. Please write more!
Despite the poignancy of your underlying message, I found myself literally laughing out loud. At almost 78 years of age, the same questions continue: who am I, what am I, do I matter? Somehow confronting those questions at the DMV is downright funny!! An anthology, Christy - please!
Carol you SOO matter!! Thank you again for your relentless support of me and my writing. It means the world.
Sobering to have the answer on the spot that you are no longer driving a fire engine.
I have had to fill-out forms that provide the binary choices of: (1) employed; or (2) unemployed. I, too, felt a momentary loss of a 30 year identity.
Waiting at the DMV does bring some awareness about all of our fellow Californians. Thanks for expressing yourself.
It’s the surprise grief that sneaks up on you like a little b at the dmv - Geeze. I loved this, and am so glad I’m a subscriber!
Once again, a great piece. And on a day when I'm staring Imposter Syndrome right in the face. Who am I? What am I? Sometimes it's like you're writing just for me. Thank you.
Thank you Dave! So many of us, probably all of us, go through this. It just helps so much to hear that other people do!
This is a great piece, Christy. Relatable and f-ing annoying as shit and yet so very poignant.
Thank you Brooke!
Love this. I could read your writing for hours and hours straight and never be bored. And yes, Harriet at the DMV would’ve been perfection. Add a Christmas sweater, even better.
Yes, Christmas sweater for Harriet. Lots of gold, please, to go with her English cream coloring (like winter white).
Thank you Julie!!!!
Christy- you made me laugh out loud. The DMV experience is always surreal to me.
Great piece Christy! I thought, do I really want to go to the DMV again? And then I took your hand and had a great time discovering sometimes you never know where the most valuable lessons will come from..
Love love LOVE this! You are an amazing writer Christy! Can’t wait for you to publish all of these!!!
Damnit, I wish (no offense) that you had to wait longer because I want more, more, more to read here!