I'll Never Get That Hour Back

I. Won't. Ever. Get. That. Hour. Back.

Ever!

Can you guess where it was wasted - yes, that's right - The Motor Registry!

My car was due for registration (again!!!). I can only do 6 monthly as I never seem to have the three million dollars I need to register it for 12 months.

And because the car is old, I have to get the green slippy thing.

That was ok - I went to a lovely place where Kieran the Irishman booked me in (well I actually couldn't understand a word he said but he seemed nice so I just smiled and said thanks, and kept my fingers crossed that we were on the same wave length). I did then have to explain that the car may need a little bit of oil as when I got the last green slippy thing done, the goose mechanic broke my bonnet release and so I can't open my bonnet, so I may need some oil.

Oh I hate it when I spill the oil everywhere!!!!

Getting 'that look' of - "typical woman" which I gladly allowed myself to relish in, he then told the mechanic who thought I hadn't opened the bonnet for 12 months. No, even I am not that silly - it was only 6 months. Needless to say, I needed a litre of oil (not really Dad - I am just kidding (not).



All good there - although I do always have a sick feeling they are going to tell me I need $5000 worth of repairs to the car to get it passed, but it was a happy day.

I then came home and tried to pay my CTP by credit card over the internet. Now, I know I had credit on THAT card, but it kept declining. I even rang the nice lady at the credit card place who told me I had HEAPS of credit (now that did get me a little bit excited).

Now I know I had some credit left on one of these

SO I phoned the CTP people - well, robot - who then gladly took my credit card - no probs Bob!

Next step - pay rego. So, online I go again, same story - wouldn't accept it. Tried phone payment - nope, I needed to talk to a person but of course they are only available on the third Wednesday of each month between 12.58pm and 12.59 pm and I am 345th in the queue.

Now, here is where I wasted that hour (well all of the above was a waste as well but at least I was doing things).

I drive ever so carefully to the RTA, not first thing because I know that is going to be crowded. So I make my way in to the car park thinking - yep, looking good, only a handful of cars here.

But as I walk in and get my automated number (which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever) I am aghast - there is probably 20 people in there. Where did they come from and how did they get there? It's not like our little country RTA is next door to a major shopping centre. SO I sit myself down in a chair which could not be any more uncomfortable and think - well I will make the most of this time - I'll check out facebook and post some very witty mediocre remark.

Getting a ticket does not make me feel welcome.... Handing me a coffee would!!!!

ONE HOUR LATER - yes people read it - ONE WHOLE HOUR they call up R008. And only two minutes before that I had the most interesting time eavesdropping on a telephone converstaion the man next to me was having (well, he WAS speaking loudly) about he had a couple of spots left on the yacht for the Sydney to Hobart Race on Boxing Day and did the phone call recipient know anyone?

OK, I understand R is for Rego, what does T stand for - Totally Over It!!!

I was just ready to extol the virtues of my own sailing career (ballast anyone??) when they called my number.

Of course, the whole transaction with Mr I Am So Boring But I Could Do ANy Job I Just Want To Do This One At The RTA  took approximately 2.5 minutes....and of course the bloody credit card worked a treat.

ONE WHOLE HOUR I sat there, looking at the other riff raff and thinking that if I think about exercise will that make me thin.... ONE WHOLE HOUR thinking about the noise coming out of the chimney in my bedroom last night and whether Santa had got his days mixed up....ONE WHOLE HOUR thinking about whether my hair was too long and whether I should get some of it cut off....
ONE WHOLE HOUR thinking that I had to go to the butcher because we are going to try out the camp cooker tonight in the backyard and do I want sausages or kebabs....
ONE WHOLE HOUR bemoaning the fact that while working last night the remote thingy for my car fell off my car ring and will I now need to unlock the car with the key or do I actually remember where the spare might be ...or do I indeed have a spare????

Anyway, the good news is that the car is now legal, and I am once again confidently driving around thinking - just what is the bloody point of car rego and I WANT THAT WASTED HOUR BACK!!!!

And I am the only one in the world who has a mind that quickly changes from one thing to another????

Cheers
Lisa