M is for...

I'm not a fan of the DMV. Not a bit. Actually, I don't know of anyone that enjoys their DMV visits. Even though nothing bad has ever happened to me there, I get a little panicked when I have to go. It's kind of a weird, random phenomenon.
I was completely relieved when I walked out the DMV doors last month, Utah driver's license documents in hand. They send the actual card through the mail about a month later. When my license arrived, I stressed about the picture just like any self-critiquing girl would, then resolved to deal with it, and set it aside.
Something was nagging at me though...
I picked my license up again for a more thorough inspection. Name spelled correctly, DOB correct, Height, Weight, Hair...etc.
Then I saw it. There at the bottom. A teeny little letter that should not have been there, that I have never before seen associated with any profile describing me. "M"
The horror set in. M.

M = MALE 

Speechless.