I went prepared. I loaded up my tote bag with three books and a magazine.

I’d be spending hours — possibly an entire afternoon and evening at the DMV — getting my driver’s license renewed and my (belated) Real ID issued. I knew that.

But once I got there and discovered that there were about 150 people in line ahead of me to renew driver’s licenses, my eyes glazed over.

Instead of pulling out a book, I did like the hundreds of other people in the room, I spent the afternoon staring at the electronic wait list signs glowing overhead.

I didn’t see anyone reading a book. And hardly anyone was gazing into their cell phone. We were captives to the bureaucracy, staring mesmerized at the glowing electronic wait list signs that determined our futures for the next few hours.

And so, that’s what I did yesterday. Instead of writing a nice post for you, I spent hours and hours, my eyes on those monitors as they crept from G200 to G300 and finally to my number, G399.

I did manage to get my driver’s license renewed yesterday — in the nick of time. It was set to expire next month.

I did not succeed, however, in getting myself a Real ID. I had taken along all the documents the DMV website instructed me to take. I had my current driver’s license, my birth certificate and plenty of documents showing my current address.

But I did not have one crucial document.

The nice DMV lady looked from my birth certificate to my bank statements and back to my birth certificate.

“How did you get the different last name?”

“I got married.”

“In that case, you need a copy of the marriage certificate.”

“I do? Won’t my driver’s license do?”

“No.”

There was no persuading this lady that I was who I was. She had her rules.

So I’ll be back at the DMV next week. I’ll take those books along, but I’ll probably do like everyone else in the room: stare at the glowing wait list sign until my number pops up and I can go back to living my life.