Your world today suffers from a chronic condition with symptoms that include: Endless paperwork, hours of waiting in lines, dysfunctional websites, automated phone calls and fees that cannot be paid in cash.

The diagnosis — bureaucracy. Chance of recovery — slim to none. Pain and suffering — inevitable and unrelenting.

Many people only have to worry about running into these symptoms on a monthly basis, such as when you pay your electric bill, or need some customer service at a store. But some people find themselves navigating a sea of bureaucracy for any number of reasons, like losing your driver’s license or replacing a damaged Social Security card. Then, just when you think a trip to the DMV is bad enough, you realize you do not have any of the necessary paperwork.

For example, imagine you lost your driver’s license because it fell out of your wallet on an interstate trip to visit your aunt, or you racked up too many driving violations and it is suspended. To get a replacement or to get it reinstated, you first look for your social security card. To your dismay, it cannot be found anywhere, and you have to get a new one.

No problem. The Social Security Administration will issue you a new one, free of charge, and you can even place an order online. But when you go to create an account and log in, the website claims your personal information does not match its records. After several attempts it deactivates your account for 24 hours, and you have no luck the next day either. Instead of wading through the endless prompts of the automated calling system, you choose to have a friend drive you down to the Chambersburg office.

After becoming familiar with government bureaucracy, you decide to find out what you need before you go. The application informs you that you need your birth certificate, but much like your Social Security card, it is missing. Despite yet another roadblock, you know how important a driver’s license is, and continue to push forward.

To your delight, you find out you can order your birth certificate online too, but now you are skeptical. What will go wrong this time? Why is the Pennsylvania Department of Health directing me to a private website? So you read some reviews and discover that even if you order it online, you still have to print out documents to get notarized and mailed in to a Vital Records Office.

One roll of the eyes and a shrug of the shoulders later, you and your friend hit the road again. After a 50-minute drive to Harrisburg, you get to the office, open the door and you are greeted with a lengthy line in a sweltering heat. You patiently wait as beads of sweat roll down the side of your face. The customer at the window begins to raise her voice, and now, you are wondering what fate awaits you.

Twenty minutes pass and you are the next customer in line, but wait — what does that sign say?

“The staff is sorry to inform you that they do not accept debit or credit cards or cash — only checks or money orders.”

You stare bleakly at the sign for a moment while the attendant says, “next” in an increasingly louder and shrewder voice.

Your eyes meet. She knows you do not have any means of paying her and the office closes in 15 minutes. Finally, you turn without saying a word and walk away thinking how close you came. You filled out the application and even prepared the secondary application that states you do not have a government-issued ID. You dug through old paperwork to find a W-2 and a utility bill to confirm your address in place of an ID. All but one of the requirements were fulfilled, but it only takes one to be denied.

On the way out of the Vital Records Office, you overhear two state legislators, who just left the Capitol Building, talking about sponsoring a voter-ID law. ‘Great,’ you think. You cannot drive, and soon you may not even be able to vote.

Not until you find a cure for bureaucracy.

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