Post office misery

I went to the post office today to apply for my passport (Italy! yay!), and had to wait roughly 3 eons, 4 hours, and 32 minutes for them to take the worst ever passport photo, in which I had red-eye in just one eye. The air conditioning at the post office was broken and the lunch rush came in while I was in line to have my picture done. During the wait, my children morphed from cooperative, patient, quiet pictures of perfection to screaming, hitting, grabbing (did I mention screaming?) monsters. The people in the main line looked at them more frequently and obviously as the transformation unfolded itself, and the expressions on their faces changed from "aw, aren't they cute" to "damn, glad I'm not her" to "good God, what is WRONG with those boys." By the time I was finally ushered through the imposing and oh-so-official door to the manager's office (which appeared to be a stockroom with a 20 year old polaroid in it), I think the people waiting for their turn to buy stamps were as relieved as I was that we were leaving the main room.

But I'm getting a passport! I'm going to Italy! I can buy stamps online and never enter a post office again!