I don’t have an ID.
I have been eighteen for three months now, and I don’t have an ID.
An ID isn’t really important until you turn eighteen, so I figured I’d wait until after my birthday to get one. You get to do all of the cool stuff with an ID at eighteen, you know, like buy cigarettes, see pornos, get a credit card in your name. Anyway, I go down to the Secretary of State’s Office to get my ID, and it turns out that once you turn eighteen, you have to have boatloads of “proper identification” that say who you are, stuff like birth certificate (I can do that), school transcript (I got you), marriage license/divorce decree (hunh?), immigration papers (nope), or driver’s license (don’t you need an ID to get one of those?). So they sent me on my way with a “Sorry, Loser. Come back when you have the proper paperwork.” So I have to wait until school ends before I can get an ID, because I don’t have time to go up there until then. See how life is already plotting against me? I had to get my cell phone under my aunt’s name because I don’t have an ID card #, since I don’t have an ID and all. Ugh!
Stay tuned for another misadventure of this almost grown woman…until the next time, keep it true, no matter how many feelings truth hurts!