What I despise most...

Everybody dreads something.  One of the things I dread most is having to take care of paper work at the department of motor vehicles, the post office, or government buildings.  Half the time you end up in the wrong place, or you don't have the right materials.  And probably the majority of the time that this happens to you, you have waited in line for good portion of time.  Well let me tell you, it doesn't get better outside of the US either!

Since I have come to Potenza Picena, it is important that I declare myself.  This entails me having to go to the police station and filling out a document with all of my information.  Michela and I first went to Potenza Picena police station on Monday afternoon.  When we arrived there at 4pm, it was closed for the day.  On Tuesday morning Michela and I got up early and headed to the police station in Potenza Picena again.  We were able to fill out the document declaring myself, but we were told by the officers that I needed to go to Macerata, which is the main city in which Potenza Picena falls under.  Because Macerata is far away, the plan was that Paolo would drive me to Macerata.  The officers at Potenza Picena said I needed to have a few things with me in order for things to go through--passport, photocopy of passport, and 2 photos.  So, the plan became that I would go to Macerata on Thursday morning.

Before Paolo and I headed off to Macerata, we stopped at a place where I could get the two photos taken.  The photos needed were similar to your passport and license picture, however they couldn't be your passport or license picture.  After getting the pictures, we headed to Macerata, which is about 25 km away.  We arrived and found the police station where we needed to be.  We immediately talked to the officer at the door as to where we were to go since there were so many offices in the building.  He directed us to the passport office.  We waited in line for about 5 minutes.  I was thinking this is not bad at all.  We will be done real quick and then get on our way.  When I got to the window, I showed the document to the lady.  She said that I was in the wrong place.  The place where we waiting in line for was the Italian only office.  So, we asked her where we were supposed to go, and she said the immigration office.

Then we headed over to the immigration office, which is still attached to the building we are in.  I collect my number, and I take seat.  The number currently being called was 1, and I was number 11.  As I sat, I saw many immigrants with the some papers I had.  I figured we were in good shape.  When number 11 was called, I went to the window and sat down and told them that I was declaring myself.  The woman at the window said I was in the wrong place.  Strike 2!  I had waited about 25 minutes in line to find out I was in the wrong place.  She directed us back to the place where we had originally started, so we went back to the officer to ask for help.

He directed us to another office in the same building.  This office worked with Italians and immigrants.  There were a lot of people in line, so I knew this was going to be a long wait.  After about a 30 minute wait, the man at the window said we were in the wrong place.  By this time I say, "We are done.  Let's go home.  This is ridiculous."  The man at the window walked us over to the police officer that we had been talking to, and together they were trying to figure out where we were supposed to go.  Finally, we talked to 2 other officers.  They looked at the document and said, "You are already declared. You didn't need to come to Macerata."  The officers at Potenza Picena had stamped the document that had all of my information, which was all that was necessary to declare myself.

I guess you can feel my frustration.  The crazy thing is that the officers at Potenza Picena even called the officers at Macerata on Tuesday morning and asked if I was supposed to go there.  Oh the joy of miscommunication.  Because of miscommunication, I lost three hours of my life and 7, 25 euros for the pictures that weren't even needed.