Moving state means I have to change my driver licence instead of just getting a change of address sticker put on my old one. It's free though, thank goodness considering I still have four and a half years to go on my five year licence. There isn't an RTA (roads and traffic authority) office really near here, but there is one near where my sister-in-law works so I organised to have lunch with her last Monday and made the trip over there.
My hair was perfect for the photo ID, make-up good, clothes nice. All my documents ready. I got a ticket and waited patiently to be attended to. But there was a problem. Because I had a driver licence in this state, New South Wales, in my youth in my maiden name, they now needed to see my wedding certificate. Even though I've had an Australian Capital Territory driver licence in my married name for the past thirteen years. Not good enough, sorry. Frustrating. But I quietly went away without venting my annoyance and unpacked some more boxes and found my wedding certificate and went back in today.
Hair only mediocre, sore eye, wasn't looking forward to photo. I needn't have worried. The office was much more crowded and I had to wait an hour, only to find I still didn't have the documentation I needed. They had very specific requirements as to proof of change of address, the only one from their list that I could access was a copy of the contract of sale for buying this house. And of course a copy wasn't good enough, I needed the original (currently in the hands of the lawyers). Why did I ever think it would be that easy!?
What a waste of a morning. I will have to go in a third time after getting a signed declaration from someone who lives in NSW and has known me for more than 12 months (luckily there are plenty of those around).
Today was ridiculously hot. I drove the kids to and from school as it was too hot to ride (Tim fixed Jasmine's bike last night, it's fine). Picking up Aiden is always a small hassle because by the time I've collected Jasmine there are no close parking spots at Aiden's school. Last week the storm opened just as he got out of his classroom and we practically swam back to the car, today it was struggling through the magma heat a couple of blocks, feeling our skin crisping up like pork crackling. Tomorrow is forecast to be even worse, 41C (105.8F). We've put water bottles and juice boxes in the freezer for them to take to school, they might still be cool by lunchtime. And we've got air conditioning and ice cream to come home to. I'll be staying safely at home the rest of the day when I'm not ferrying the kids around.
I remember a persistent rumour back when I was in Primary School that if it got to 45C they had to let us go home. That turned out not to be true (how could it be, with a lot of parents at work!) but they did let us sit quietly in the classroom and gave us free icy poles (like frozen lemonade) from the canteen. Last year (or the year before?) we were driving home from a beach holiday when it got to the high 40s, even over 50 in some places. It was fine in the car, but every time we stepped out it honestly felt like getting into an oven. That was an unusual heatwave, even the 41C predicted tomorrow is a bit excessive and we wouldn't have more than one or two days like that each year. I suppose they are going to get more common.
I've been really sleepy all day. I foresee a summer full of naps. I've stalled a bit on the unpacking and haven't even looked at my novel yet. Cool change on Saturday, hopefully we'll get more done on the weekend.