I got woke up out of the sound sleep I had finally achieved after a bout with insomnia last night at 9am this morning to be told that if I didn't have new tags on my vehicle by 3pm, the apartment complex was going to tow it. (I hadn't bothered with tags because I haven't had money for insurance-long story) Anyway, I scrambled over the net and bought insurance, threw on my kilt, grabbed the documents I needed, and shot out the door to go take care of it. Well, I was halfway to the bus stop when I realized that I hadn't put on socks. I don't have real kilt hose yet, but that's beside the point. I took the trusty Visa card to the ATM (muttering under my breath that this really could have waited two weeks so I wouldn't have to pay finance charges...) and headed to the bus stop. That's when the snowstorm started. I got to the place I had been told to go for the tags, and found out that I was told the wrong place. Another half hour in the wind and snow to get on the bus to the next place. A hike of about a half a mile through parking lots that are still unplowed from the blizzard last week got me in the door of the DMV. Then another half mile trek (a half mile seems like such a short distance in good weather, but add in a blustery snowstorm and it seems like Zeno's Paradox) and another half hour wait for a bus. By the time I got home, I had evidence of why the lowlanders used to call kilt wearers "redshanks." I'm definitely buying some kilt hose when my money gets in. My legs are just now starting to warm up. If I could drink, this would be the time for a dram (or three) of a good single malt.

On the upside, just after I walked into the DMV a pretty lass who ran out of time on her lunch hour to wait gave me her number, which got me through about a half hour earlier than I could have expected otherwise! All hail the power of the kilt!