![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Muggers Would Take Longer
Jul. 2nd, 2014 04:55 pmQuite Tired.
Today I went to town to take my documents and ID to the Department of Births, Deaths and Marriages, in order to make my name change legal. It's a windy, overcast but surprisingly warm day for winter. T-shirt weather, in fact. Today's choice: the green t with "Sometimes It's Not Even Worth Chewing Through the Restraints."
Finding the DBDM was fun; turns out number 141 St Georges Terrace is not actually on said Terrace, but further back from it in a "square" of buildings. After stomping back and forth for some time I queried the concierges at number 140, who get this 10 or 15 times a day, they say. No sooner did I get out "141" than one of them recited the directions :-)
It's one way to make sure your service staff don't get bothered by the public a great deal, I should think. I had my form ready, having printed it out and completed it before arriving. After I took a numbered ticket I was called up almost at once and was swiftly and efficiently processed, relieved of my money and dumped back out the door. It had taken me about three times longer to find it than I spent there. I then got a haircut - place was so empty that I was in the door and straight to a chair - and home in time to be here when Mariann, friend whose rats I was looking after while she went to France, arrived to collect the girls.
It's funny what can help your morale. Being called the correct name means a lot, and now I will be able to change my ID documents at a pace that suits me and maybe even break the news to work. The gulag did think it would be confusing - in the person of my manager - but stars, surely no more confusing than having four employees in the big room with the same name.
Today I went to town to take my documents and ID to the Department of Births, Deaths and Marriages, in order to make my name change legal. It's a windy, overcast but surprisingly warm day for winter. T-shirt weather, in fact. Today's choice: the green t with "Sometimes It's Not Even Worth Chewing Through the Restraints."
Finding the DBDM was fun; turns out number 141 St Georges Terrace is not actually on said Terrace, but further back from it in a "square" of buildings. After stomping back and forth for some time I queried the concierges at number 140, who get this 10 or 15 times a day, they say. No sooner did I get out "141" than one of them recited the directions :-)
It's one way to make sure your service staff don't get bothered by the public a great deal, I should think. I had my form ready, having printed it out and completed it before arriving. After I took a numbered ticket I was called up almost at once and was swiftly and efficiently processed, relieved of my money and dumped back out the door. It had taken me about three times longer to find it than I spent there. I then got a haircut - place was so empty that I was in the door and straight to a chair - and home in time to be here when Mariann, friend whose rats I was looking after while she went to France, arrived to collect the girls.
It's funny what can help your morale. Being called the correct name means a lot, and now I will be able to change my ID documents at a pace that suits me and maybe even break the news to work. The gulag did think it would be confusing - in the person of my manager - but stars, surely no more confusing than having four employees in the big room with the same name.