Life in the slow lane

Leave it to my hubbie to put a damper on my visit home to Canada.

[Clyde texts] Just got a call from our insurance company. Your driver's license expired on December 31 2021.

[Me] That's impossible. Virginia just gave me a new license in 2021.

[Clyde] Well better double check.

Sure enough, he was right.

During the madness of the lockdown in 2020, my license was up for renewal. As we were no longer living in the District I had to apply in Virginia. It took me 8 months (not joking) to get an appointment. By the time I got my license I didn't even bother to check the duration. Turns out I should have read the fine print.

DC gives eight year licenses to foreigners.

Virginia gives one.

Thinking it could be a simple renewal process, I booked my appointment at the local DMV as soon as I was back from Canada. After getting through all the paperwork checks at the service counter, I was informed I was missing one letter. One letter which sealed the entire process: the infamous letter from the State Department. No letter, no license for foreigners.

Well apparently the State Department is still suffering from COVID-related backlogs because when I went home to request it through my organisation's HR portal, it was going to take 2 months to issue the letter. 2 months. Now things were starting to looking serious. If we were still in DC, 2 months without a license would be nothing. But in northern Virginia, it is slightly different. Though we live right in the downtown core, several functions still require a car, including the two most important: taking and picking my son up from school, and riding.

After a good 36 hours of initial frustration and anger, I had to snap out of it. This was the new reality for at least 2.5 months, and required some problem solving. Below I share with you some musings from the first week of living without a license.

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The weather is warming up nicely and I am now walking the dogs to and from their doggie daycare on the days my husband is flying. We've developed a nice route taking us through the old courthouse complex, down some of our picturesque historic streets, and past the little shops that line our main street. I had someone roll down their window the other day and say, “What gorgeous dogs!” Our walk kick starts my day and also gives me a mid-day break from sitting at the computer. Bonus: I might even lose those 5 pounds I keep telling myself don't really exist. LOL.

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A friend of a friend offered to post an advert through her IG to a bunch of college students she used for babysitting last year, in the hopes that one of them might want to earn some extra money picking Clyde up from school once or twice a week when my husband is flying. This friend of a friend is a stranger to me, yet she texted, “I have two kids, I know how difficult it can get. It takes a community to help each other out.” Ain't that the truth.

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This week Clyde had a roster of neighbors who picked him up on the days my husband flies. Ms Rachel across the street who always refers to Clyde as her 17th grandchild (yes she has 16 grandchildren and still finds time to pick Clyde up). Mr Kurt who dedicated Clyde at the age of 18 months. He picks Clyde up right before baseball duty with one of his grandsons. Mr. Dave who drives a vintage Saab that makes engineering a car seat into it quite a feat. Each live within a block of our house and are our community, for sure.
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I took an Uber to the barn the one day. Couldn't believe it worked. Turns out the driver, like me, had lived his early days upon arrival in the US in DC. We reminisced about restaurants and neighborhoods. The changes to the District. He now lives halfway between the city and Leesburg in order to save while he goes back to college. But he misses the nightlife of the city and is thinking of moving back in. He had never seen a horse farm. I gave him a tour.

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A dear dear old friend is coming into town from Colorado. We were going to meet in Chevy Chase. I texted her last week the bad news that I couldn't come. No license. “Take an Uber!,” she exclaimed, “I'll pay!” Such generosity. Turns out my husband was hunkering for day trip to the city to find a suit for his sister's wedding. We've made a date-day out of it. Just the two of us.

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Admittedly this is only Week 1. The euphoria of life in the slow lane hasn't worn off. The sun is shining, Spring is in the air. Who couldn't be happier? But I was thinking the other day just how easy it is to get our heads all twisted up when life throws us some curve balls. It is normal. The trick is to let that curve ball go past and land. Then pick up the ball and decide where you want it to go next. I've received such generosity from friends and strangers over the last week. I've enjoyed the pace of a small town life a bit more. And most importantly I've actually spent more time with my hubbie doing the mundane because we have to do it together (errands, school pick up, grocery shopping). Efficiency—two cars, tackling things simultaneously—has its merits when we are living these busy lives. But sometimes just being together is what counts more.

Hoping this little musing may inspire some small tweaks in your own day-to-day. But hopefully, unlike me, you still have a license!