Remember how we were married on June 13? Yeaaaah, about that.
As soon as we returned from the honeymoon, I mailed off a request for two copies of our marriage certificate. A few days later, I received a call from the registrar’s office that they hadn’t received the license from the magistrate’s office – even though it had been a week. I called the magistrate’s office and the person that married us was only in the office Friday to Sunday.
I forgot to call that weekend, but Colby was able to reach her the week after. Apparently the head magistrate and the registrar supervisor were involved in the hunt for our license. According to the registrar lady, there’s never been a lost license between the magistrate’s court and their office. Licenses have been lost via US mail, but it was supposedly sent inter-office.
So, on Saturday, July 18, I will marry the love of my life again at the detention center. The magistrate said she could backdate it if we had our original witnesses with us. Oy vey, only us! This means I can’t change my name with Social Security, update my driver’s license, update anything until we get re-married! I’ll be hand-delivering the signed marriage license on Monday.
Update: I wrote this post a couple days ago, and yesterday I received a call from the registrar’s office – our license had been found! …in a pile of paperwork on the magistrate’s desk. The magistrate hand-delivered it that afternoon. About time!
In other news, my desk at work is plastered with quarantine and biohazard signs – I think a little sproglet shared their cooties with me when we went to the beach this past weekend. Awesome.
I know I haven’t posted a recipe recently, I could say it’s because I’m wanting to buy a DSLR, I’m busy, etc., but the truth is that I’ve been depressed and listless lately. My anxiety is high, which is causing more compulsions with my OCD, which is causing me more anxiety, which is causing more compulsions with my OCD, you get the picture.
Sometimes I’m scared to leave the house, or be around large groups of people. I’m constantly worried that I’ll lose people I love, or I’ll lose my job, or my boss will fuss at me again. I’m avoiding even the simplest of tasks at home because I’m just too apathetic. I’m constantly plagued by guilt for the smallest things – I didn’t recycle that can, I threw some food away, I’m wasting gas.
And I have no reason to be.
What’s frustrating is that there is no reason for me to be depressed – everything is perfect with my life right now – but my brain insists on betraying me. We had a relaxing weekend in North Myrtle Beach, SC, everyone is healthy and happy, work is stable, and so on.
Brain, I beg you, let me return to normal. Let me live my life to the fullest, without unnecessary fear and paranoia. Let me be happy and carefree, not panicking over every tiny thing. Let me sleep through the night, not waking up constantly from nightmares.