So I'm waiting for weeks for my passport to arrive. The Friday before last, the State Department sends me a notice telling me I need to send them another $5.00 if I really want the passport. At this point, I'm really anxious because I need the passport to get a visa to enter Ghana.
I send the $5.00 bones overnight and wait for the passport to arrive. The thing doesn't show up until last Friday. It comes while I'm sitting at my father's computer applying for a job. I figure that I''ll just finish applying for the job and then head downtown to the Ghanaian embassy. My mother comes by and says, "Rion, you might want to check what time the embassy closes." For some reason, she's more anxious than me, so I go to the Ghanaian embassy website and skim it. The embassy's consular and visa department closes at 3 p.m. It was about 1:30 p.m.
I go into panic mode and download a visa application, making mistake after mistake. I keep downloading fresh ones until I get it right.
Then I realize that my passport-sized pictures are over at my girlfriend's house. I run to my car and try to speed over there. It's about 2 p.m.
People are driving like assholes infected with a slow disease. One big truck just sits at a green light while I honk and yell.
I get to my girlfriend's house at about 2:30 pm. I rush up three flights of stairs, grab the pictures and rush back down. But I have to stop to visit the ATM for the $80 I'll need to get a visa. So much bullshit is involved with world travel.
It's the time of day when going slow is a religion and everybody on the streets is a fundamentalist. I'm honking and bawling, bawling and honking.
Nevertheless, I pull up in front of the embassy just before 3 pm. On such a nice day, I could see the sign on the gate clearly from the road. It reads: Closed on Fridays.
It's not like this is such a unique position to be in. I'm sure there are a million recent former grad school students going through the same shit. I know a few of them. Twenty-somethings are always so earnest and are always whining about what they are going do with their lives as if they are the are the only ones to ever go through that shit. I've done my share of "quarter life angst" whining. It's fucking insufferable. Don't think I mean to contribute to that.
Yeah, I really, really, really, have checked out. So if you talk to me and I'm all spacely sprockets and shit, don't take offense. It's not that I don't give a fuck...it's just that...okay...who am I kidding? It is that I don't give a fuck. I mean. I really, really don't give a fuck.
 The most ludicrous moment in Sex & the City is when Jennifer Hudson tells Sarah Jessica Parker that she moved to New York to fall in love. As if falling in love couldn't be accomplished in her native St. Louis. Sex & the City was an entertaining movie and show, but it's almost like porn for women. It promotes the idea that the search for love is some sort of heroic journey instead of just another mundane thing that people do. Great love doesn't change the world. It may make a person happier or a little less lonely or it might do nothing for you. The world at large will remain unchanged. There are worse things than being alone. One of them is not being alone.