Three weeks ago, my father called to tell my brother and I that we'd each be receiving a packet of important legal documents sent by a legal-type person (let's call them Biscuit) helping him with legal-type stuff. Both of us would need to sign it all in front of a notary with two witnesses, then overnight-mail to a different legal-type person (let's call them Gravy).

A week after that, Biscuit sends a text message to me, my brother, and my dad, asking if I've received the packet. I reply that nothing has arrived. They read off the address they sent it to... but it was one I haven't lived at for many years. They hurriedly set about e-mailing the documents to me, insisting that they needed them printed and signed and witnessed and notarized and overnighted to them ASAP.

Oh, and Gravy also texts me independently for all the same reasons.

So I coaxed a couple friends – the first two I could find who weren't pinned down by a day job – to come out with me on a cold, nasty day to a UPS store get it all sorted at once. (Super appreciative! Once such a thing is possible again, I owe y'all lunch at least.)

Two weeks after that, my dad and brother and I get another text message from Biscuit. Turns out Gravy forgot one of the documents! So we'd need to do the same thing all over again. My brother responds first, asking why the first one had to be overnighted if they obviously had at least two weeks to sit on it, and what the actual real deadline is we needed to meet. We receive a date that's one week out, and Biscuit e-mails the remaining document.

Yet again, Gravy also texts me independently for all the same reasons.

I check the document. My brother's name is misspelled, my address is listed as the same invalid one from before, and it has me misgendered. I convey this to Biscuit, who will coordinate with Gravy and get the corrected document e-mailed to me quickly. Very urgent.

This morning, before my usual hours – just what are time zones, anyhow? – I receive a call, a voicemail, and texts from both Biscuit and Gravy to ask if I overnighted the document. I remind them that I'm still waiting for the corrections. Gravy sends them to me five minutes later. I remind both parties that "ASAP" might not be immediate because I have to yet again summon two friends to drag my ass out to the same UPS store in the middle of a pandemic lockdown, all because somehow nobody's managed to make this happen in a sane, paperless way.

I hate legal shit.