I forgot how touch can feel like a shimmering, slow, soft electrocution. Waking up next to someone has been bringing me back to myself, grounding me in the rhythm of living again.
As surely as it’s a battle, I’ve been going through the acid steps required to rebuild my legal identity enough in order to exist enough to venture across the border. MJ wants me down there Memorial weekend for Sasquatch, a three day music festival of favourite bands. Because there’s an order to these things which isn’t immediately clear, I’ve been getting caught unprepared as different departments give me different requirements, all of which involve busing back and forth between staid, solid buildings lacking in friendly edges. Thankfully, however, my new birth certificate was couriered to me in a matter of days, (arriving, of course, while David and I were in the shower, leaving me to answer the door as a rain-soaked towel kitten), so today I can apply for a new SIN card, which will mean I can legally work again. The next item is a Change of Name Certificate, which lets me get a BCID, the non-driver’s answer to a photo ID*. And with that, I’m gold, I’m good to go.
I hope that I can unravel the most problematic snags today, find the right hoops to jump, and leap through with balletic if annoyed grace. Ah well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And I still need a day job.
*Yes, I’m working on the driver’s license thing, it is just slow here in BC-land. Three years slow, in fact. I need to move, this is known.