Hey Reader, I was mighty proud of myself for showing up early on Tuesday for my Real ID appointment at the DMV. I was also confident about having all the right documents. Current license, check. Social Security card, check. Passport, check. Birth certificate, just in case. Completed application. Banking statement with address. Steven printed out a backup proof of residence. Had my eyeglasses. This wasn’t going to go down the way it did last time. That attempt flopped three times in one day. The Con Ed bill I brought had “Lora” instead of “Laura.” I went home and came back with a better document. The guy screening papers said I’d need my passport. I went home again. Good thing I like getting in my steps! Then they said I also needed my Social Security card, which I didn’t have. I gave up and renewed my regular license instead. It was expiring in three days, and I knew I’d be shit out of luck trying to pass a driving test if it lapsed. This time, I went with a foolproof package. When I arrived, I overheard someone saying the wait was four hours. I hoped that was wrong. Or at least referring to walk-ins. I could afford to wait two and a half hours, max. I’d accepted an invitation to an authors’ dinner and didn’t want to miss it or show up late. After over an hour, I asked the woman going around checking documents if the four-hour estimate was real. “Seems to be,” she laughed and gestured to the guy next to me. “Ask him!” He’d been waiting three. I did the math. I had 75 minutes left before I’d have to leave. But I kept imagining how mad I’d be if I sat there for another hour and fifteen on a beautiful day, stressing over the time, and still had to go home empty-handed. So I left. And of course, when I got home, I received a text: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Well, whatcha gonna do. That’s life, right? And business. Some of us quit when we’re almost there. Some of us stay forever because we don’t want to waste the time and work we’ve already put in. There’s no perfect rule for which instinct is right. The only real mistake is agonizing and not making a choice. I can live with leaving early, even though…big facepalm/ FML moment when that text came through. What I didn’t do was sit there for 45 minutes in that hard, plastic chair trying to shave the decision down to the last possible second. I left. That part felt clean, even though now I have to start over and will probably forget one of my documents next time. Or my glasses. Shit, maybe I should’ve stayed. What’s something you stuck with too long? Write back and tell me. xoLaura PS - If you’re building something weird and ambitious or making a pivot and don’t want to figure that line out alone, Shrimp Club might be for you. It’s where the overthinkers, high-functioners, and professional starters get out of stuck places, make bold moves, and get paid to be themselves. Spots are 70% full, and the remaining 6 will open for applications in August. Put yourself on the VIP interest list by clicking here.
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