On Wednesday after I left the local helping people find employment place, I was headed for the mental health office. On the way I wanted to swing by the courthouse to see what I had to do to get another social security card.
I forgot that courthouses have guards and metal detectors at them. If I had a dime for every time I had to walk into a courthouse, then suspiciously walk back out as I put my boxcutter down on a nearby hand rail then walk back in, I’d have twenty cents.
But hey, I could use the money right now.
Luckily, this town is small enough that that was not the case. In fact, they had a relatively large display focused solely on helping folks get new social security cards. Go fig. I read it over, noted the documents, grabbed an application, and got out.
I turns out that I only need a valid driver’s license and my birth certificate to get the new social security card. Whenever I got to the library later, I managed—through my euphoric haze—to look up data on getting my birth certificate from Texas. $22 paid through a debt or credit card.
Outstanding.
At least I was on the right track.
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