The MVA Chronicles

✅ I’ve got my Maryland driver’s license
I’ve got my Maryland insurance… but it doesn’t start until August 20th, which means I can’t even make an MVA appointment until the 21st. One hoop at a time, right?

In the meantime, I figured I’d knock out the vehicle inspection. Easy. Or so I thought.

The inspection went just fine — until the guy pointed out a tiny rock chip in my windshield. One little nick from a road trip to Fort Bragg, California… in June of 2021. It’s been there for years with no issue, but in Maryland, that’s a fail.

So I drove straight to a local glass place. They charged me $97 to fill it — and honestly, it didn’t look like they did anything at all. No joke.

I took the receipt back to the inspector and showed him the “repair.” He squinted at it, then looked at me and said:

“They did a HORRIBLE job.”

😳

Then he smiled and said:

“But I’m not going to ding you for their mistake. You’re good. I’ll pass it.”

Welcome to small-town Maryland — where the rules are strict, the inspections are honest, and sometimes the guy behind the counter has enough heart to give you a break when it counts.

One more step closer to those Maryland plates. 🛻
One more day closer to not driving around with California plates like a lost tourist. 😅


☕ Support the Journey

If this post resonated with you or made you feel a little less alone on your own path, you’re always welcome to support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing real stories and new chapters, one step at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

DoorDashing Through Maryland

On Friday, I officially became a Dasher.

With no income coming in just yet and my savings starting to dwindle, I knew I needed to do something — anything — to bridge the gap while I wait to hear back about a position I applied for with the school district. So, I signed up with DoorDash and hit the road.

Over the past two days, I’ve driven from quiet North East, Maryland to the busier streets of Newark, Delaware — and everywhere in between. That’s over 200 miles of exploring neighborhoods, small communities, and lively towns I’d barely noticed before.

It’s been eye-opening in the best way. I’ve now seen more of this area in 48 hours than I did in the entire month prior. And through it all — from winding country roads to packed intersections — I’m reminded that movement, even small, keeps us going.

It’s not glamorous. It’s not easy. But it’s honest work. And for now, it’s helping.

One delivery at a time, I’m moving forward.


Support the Journey:
If you’ve ever found yourself in that strange in-between space — waiting, hoping, and still doing the work anyway — I see you. If this post resonated or reminded you of a chapter you’ve lived through, and you’d like to support the writing behind it, here’s where you can do that: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele


My Maryland Driver’s License Adventure

Today I did the thing and went to the MVA (that’s right, not DMV… I’m still reprogramming my brain) and applied for my Maryland driver’s license! As a Recovering Californian, this feels like a milestone. I’m slowly shedding my West Coast habits, well, except for saying “the freeway.” I keep calling it that, and while no one here in Maryland has corrected me (yet), I know I’m sticking out like a palm tree in a forest of oaks.

On the East Coast, it’s all “highway” or “route.” You’ll hear people say, “Take 95” or “hop on Route 40”—not a freeway in earshot, linguistically speaking. But old habits die hard. I’m trying, okay?

Now, let’s talk about the real challenge: the vision test. I’ve got a cataract in my right eye that covers my pupil, and those little letters? They looked like alphabet soup. I finally gave in and put on my driving glasses at the suggestion of the MVA clerk for my right eye. I saw a smidge better, just enough to pass. So, yes, “corrective lenses required” will now be part of my driver’s license.

But the good news? I passed. I survived the MVA. And in 7–10 business days, I’ll be holding my shiny new Maryland license, officially making me a licensed East Coaster.

One more step on my “Leaving California” healing journey complete.

Next stop: learning to remember to say “MVA” and “highway”.


Support the Journey:
From failing to call it a “highway” to barely passing the vision test thanks to my right eye doing its own thing, this Maryland chapter is already full of character. If you got a chuckle or felt a little less alone reading about my license saga, you can always fuel the ride with a cup of coffee at:
👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele

The Itch I Didn’t Pack For…

If you told me a few months ago that I’d be dealing with ticks in my house, I would’ve laughed and probably made a face. But here we are.

Back in Tahoe, fleas and ticks just weren’t part of daily life. I never had to think about them. But now that we’re in Maryland? I’ve already found three ticks inside the house. It’s giving me that mental itchiness you can’t quite shake. You know where you’re not even sure if something’s crawling on you, but your brain says “probably.” The stupid phantom feelings, LOL.

It’s not just ticks either. The mosquitoes here have made me their personal buffet. I’m completely covered in bites, and I’ve just about had it. The kids are fine (I haven’t put anything on them), and the cats are indoor-only, so they’ve been spared. Me? Not so lucky.

So, I’m trying the natural route. I’ve started using essential oils in the yard, and I’ve been working on planting herbs outside that are supposed to help repel ticks and fleas, like Rosemary, Mint, and Lavender. I also ordered a product called No-Bite off Amazon, hoping it’ll give me some kind of relief. No chemicals, no bug sprays on the kids — just me trying to keep the bugs off my body and out of my space without losing my mind. I even ordered the Wondercide Flea & Tick Concentrate for Yard & Garden and sprayed the whole backyard the other day. Not totally sure I did it right or if I used enough, because I still found a tick in the house today. So… yeah. I’m learning as I go. Maybe I need a second round, or maybe the ticks didn’t get the memo yet.

No one warned me about this part of East Coast living. The trees are beautiful. The air is soft. The backyard is green and alive… but so are the bugs.

Still, I wouldn’t trade the peace we’ve found here. I just didn’t expect to be sharing it with quite so many six-legged roommates.

One bite, one oil blend, and one deep breath at a time.


If this post made you laugh, cringe, or feel just a little more seen in your own messy moments, you can always support my writing with a cup of coffee. Your kindness helps me keep sharing the real stuff, one bug bite at a time: 👉 coff.ee/smalltownmichele