identity crisis
Sad but true: I am thirty-eight years old and I’ve never had a passport. I have left the country, but just barely, and only back in the old days, when the government would let you mosey a ways north or south without a bar code tattooed on your forehead.
For over a decade now I’ve regularly acknowledged to all and sundry that yes, I should get a passport, so I at least have the option to travel, if not the time and/or money. I have also managed to completely avoid making any actual progress in that direction. Last month I forced my own hand, by purchasing nonrefundable plane tickets to another country. Okay, it’s only Mexico, but it’s a part of Mexico that isn’t walking distance from the U.S. border, which is a big step for me.
The reason for my procrastination: fear of bureaucratic smackdown.
( Read more... )
For over a decade now I’ve regularly acknowledged to all and sundry that yes, I should get a passport, so I at least have the option to travel, if not the time and/or money. I have also managed to completely avoid making any actual progress in that direction. Last month I forced my own hand, by purchasing nonrefundable plane tickets to another country. Okay, it’s only Mexico, but it’s a part of Mexico that isn’t walking distance from the U.S. border, which is a big step for me.
The reason for my procrastination: fear of bureaucratic smackdown.
( Read more... )
