A bureaucratic sandstorm comes up with the sun this morning. I no longer do well when facing the slings and arrows of bureaucracy, but I will give it a shot.
A while back, my younger son was in a car accident (no one hurt) that was minor except to the extent that today's automobiles are no longer built to sustain even minor injury without collapsing. The old Nissan looks as if it had been hit by an Oklahoma twister. Yesterday, after sifting and searching, a new old car was purchased. Naturally it took a bite out of my fixed-income lifestyle. $4,700 may not be much, but it's also a lot. My son will pay it back over time, but in the meantime ....
He picked up the new old car yesterday -- a snazzy Nissan Maxima that is over 10 years old with 105K but is clean as a whistle and I can remember coveting when I was in the car-owning realm. Woo-hoo -- it has a sun roof and seats that warm and support the ass. Pretty ritzy. Now it needs to be registered and insured and ... well, welcome to the bureaucracy. My son has college classes to get to today so I will do some of the bureaucratic lifting by going to the insurance company. I know they will want the money, so it shouldn't be too difficult, but still, I get lost in bureaucratic curves ... which, of course, is what bureaucracies count on. The prospect sandstorms my mind.
Somehow, at the moment, my mind is full even before the day has properly gotten off the ground.