Where the Brave Dare Not Go
I'm nearing the end of my two-week-long quest to obtain a Cambridge resident parking permit, and just in time, since I'm moving next weekend. The process has several steps and dependencies:
- Ask adielsdream and my mom to mail envelopes to me at my new address, as proof of residence.
- Drop by my insurance agent to get an RMV-3 form, documenting my change of address for the registry.
- Pick up the envelopes from adielsdream and my mom (thanks!) at the new place.
- Take the RMV-3 form to the RMV Watertown branch and trade it for an amended registration.
- Race to the Cambridge City Hall Annex, arriving at 4:50 PM to discover that it closes at noon on Fridays.
- To do: Return to the City Hall Annex, registration, postmarked envelopes, and cash in hand, to hopefully get a parking sticker.
It drives me crazy when people use the word "cliché" as an adjective. It's not hard to imagine how it might have come about, since the final "d" in "clichéd" is easy not to hear. I'm not usually a linguistic conservative-note my double (mis)use of "hopefully" above, the second time splitting an infinitive with it-but this really grates. I've been hearing it a lot more lately, and I'm guessing the battle is already lost.