81456795000197*

Since I am presumably posting every day this month (Ha.  It’s the 4th and I’ve already missed two days.), I guess it is all right to write about the extremely trivial.  (Not that I don’t already.)

My driver’s license expires this coming Sunday (on my birthday) and I received a slip in the mail instructing me to go in to get a new photo taken.  I went.  It was uneventful except for the fact that, when asked for my Social Security Number, my mind went blank and I could not think of the last two digits.  I’ve had an SS# since September of 2001 and use it often enough.  I could’ve told her P’s SS#.  Dude, I could have told her my best friend’s phone number from 25 years ago.  But alas, the last two digits alluded me.  I got a little panicky.  Thankfully, we are in Pennsylvania, not New York, and the woman behind the counter (despite some eye-rolling) checked my identity by asking other questions and allowed me to renew my license anyway.

For the record, I did eventually remember the numbers.

I’m taking this as a sign that I am no spring chicken now that I’ll be 28 on Sunday.

*The 14-digit PIN for my first phone card, from ten years ago.

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