Wednesday morning, I make time for the worst part of my move. I have to go to the DMV and change my driver's license. Tina tipped me off that the downtown DMV is the worst one, so even though it's further from work, I go to the office in East Liberty. It's in the basement of a gorgeous old building with a glass dome, which I'm busy staring at when someone taps me on the shoulder.

"Do you mind moving? You're blocking the stairs." A shaggy head moves to block my view, and I ...