Now, I NEVER condone strict adherence to the letter of the law to avoid following the spirit of the law. But honestly I am going crazy being restricted to our house without a car or any of our stuff. I began researching if I could file with the local Social Security office to replace my "lost" SSN card. Without it I am ineligible for employment, and I am going to be without it until our shipment arrives  in about 75 days or so.

Some definitions of lost include Missing, Stray or Gone. All of those are perfectly legitimate descriptions of my card: I am missing it; it has strayed from my immediate possession; it has gone away with my stuff. Another definition is that the item in question is no longer visible or possessed, and is beyond reach. All those are true!! I can't see it, I'm not holding it, and it's more than an arm's reach away. Technically I don't know its whereabouts, either, though if I keyed in the number given us by the shipping company I COULD, in fact, track the shipment and ascertain its approximate geographical location.

All my scheming is, in the end, for naught. According to the government's Social Security website, in order to obtain a replacement copy of the card I have to prove my date of birth, identity, and citizenship. Of course, all the documents I need to do that are WITH my Social Security card. *Sigh* I will die of boredom.

I should really become resigned to my fate of house-boundedness, pull a Bronte and write prolific works of literature! Simple.

Or perhaps I am resisting God as he attempts to teach me contentedness, stillness and appreciation of every moment and every circumstance in which he chooses to place me. Maybe if I could wrap my hands around Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline I could read a chapter on Solitude or Silence and be motivated and inspired.

I have gotten through the first hundred pages of Jules Verne's The Mysterious Island, but knowing that I will just be sitting for long periods to read it makes me languid. I also picked up a 1000 piece puzzle of what appears to be some colorful apartments in the Mediterranean. Knowing that I'll just be devoting hours of silent boredom to that also renders it unappealing as a potential distraction. I have never considered myself to be a murderer, but if I could kill the time until I have mobility and things to do, I think I might gladly do so. Maybe it's twisted, but I would rather crash from the overspent exhaustion of being really busy and productive than lazily lounge with nothing better to do than blog every day about my boredom.