The Picture of Worn-in and Gray

I renewed my license at the DMV today! Just shy of my 39th birthday. It seemed like I had been there not too long ago, though it had been four years already. Four years? Where does the time go? To work, children, and husband, that's where. I carefully examined my soon-to-expire license, as I gripped it tightly in my hands. I studied my picture. I had not been happy with it four years ago, and was not happy with it now. My hair was too dark from a bad dye-job, my lipstick too pale, were those crow's feet around my eyes?? I had only been 34 at the time the picture was taken. Still I looked weary and worn. I remember considering 'losing' my license on purpose so that I could go back and get my picture retaken (or maybe they just make you pay another $20 - that would have been worth it), but I decided to keep it. I felt certain that this many years later I would gaze upon the picture of me from four years prior and marvel at how young and supplely beautiful I was, how fresh and vibrant my smile was. Now as I looked down into the haggard face of a maybe middle-aged woman, I still felt wronged. I couldn't wait to take a new picture.
I sat patiently listening for my number to be called out over the loudspeaker and flash up on the didgital sign. I had dressed up and put make-up on (mostly for work, but I did get up early and put in extra effort for the occassion). I could feel people's eyes on me, or so I thought. They knew. Even though my license was up for renewal anyway, they knew I had come to re-take my picture! How vain! How self-important! I had plenty of friends whose pictures on their driver's licenses looked like the mug shots of hardened criminals. Why did mine have to be any different? I felt silly, naked almost. Still, I didn't care. I just wanted to re-take the damn picture.
Finally, I was called to the counter to complete the paperwork. Address: easy, it's been the same for ten years. Date of birth: can't really lie on that one, though I'd like to. Height: 5'8 (maybe only when I am retaining fluid, but, still, accurate enough). Weight: 130 (my perpetual goal weight, because when I eventually reach that goal, I want my license to be accurate, dammit. We're talking about the law here!) Drug or alcohol use: none of your damn business, but for all intents and purposes here - no. Revocation of license for any reason: all warrants for unpaid parking tickets paid in full so, no. I signed the form and turned it in to the DMV Lady (I do believe this is the correct terminology here, like the Lunch Lady in the cafeteria, or the Cashier Lady at the grocery) with my old license attached.
I felt saddened as I watched her walk away with my old license. I would never see that old, familiar face ever again, with its mousy brown hair and ashy face. Sadness quickly turned to excitement as I remembered I would get to take a new picture today! My license would finally reflect the real me! The young, vivacious woman who had been betrayed all these years by the picture impersonator she carried around in her wallet would finally get vindication!
I considered my hair and lipstick. Should I retouch? No. No mirror. I hoped that I looked okay. Of course, I did, I reminded myself! I had gotten up early today! I had put in extra effort! I had on a pretty dress in a bright color! When they called my name, I practically skipped over to the photo booth. The woman, or the Other DMV Lady, politely instructed me where to stand, conveniently marked on the floor in masking tape. I smiled and cocked my head to the side. She asked, "are you ready?" and, gaily, I said, "yes!" She snapped the picture and remarked, "that came out fine!" Victory! I smiled. She seemd so pleased with her photography and the subject matter I felt certain she was going to tell me she was now inspired to be come a professional photographer, and was I, in fact, a super model? I blushed at the thought of this, and though she did not say it out loud, I felt surely this was what she was thinking...
All I had left to do now was wait. Would my eyes be closed? Would I have a doucle-chin? Would my make-up look garish or would I be washed out? I held my hands tightly in my lap. The Other DMV Lady called my name. I rushed up to the counter. I was surprised that she did not congratulate me as she handed over my license, but she did smile and nod. Something special had passed between us...an artist and her muse.
I did not look at my new driver's license until I was in the sunlight. I slowly looked down at the picture and took it all in. My hair was too light from a bad dye-job, my lipstick too pale, were those crow's feet around my eyes?? Not bad, I thought. The picture hadn't changed much, but I had: I'm older now and more accepting of myself. This would be the picture I would carry in my wallet for the next ten years and, for the first time, I was okay with that. Hell, I ain't getting any younger! I skipped all the way back to the car.