For those who don’t know what the FAFSA is, I say to you: bow down right where you are at this minute and kiss the ground. Pat yourself on the back, shake your own hand–and then take yourself out for a nice dinner and drink.

The rest of us will just sit here, gnashing our teeth.

The FAFSA stands for Free Application for Federal Student Aid, and it consists of, oh, about 103,000 questions designed to make you examine your entire financial situation. After all, you are asking the government to kick in a few bucks so you can send your child to college–and that help doesn’t come cheap.

They want worksheets from you if they’re going to think about doing something like that. And not only worksheets–they’d like to see your tax return, hear about your checking and savings accounts, and ponder with you how they might make use of your retirement funds before you get to them. They throw around inexplicable terms like “credit for federal tax on special fuels” and “foreign income exclusions.” Occasionally they mention the word “perjury” if you should fill out the forms wrong.

And they have STRICT DEADLINES. The kind of deadlines that mean you have to get your taxes done way before you would normally think of such a thing.

But all those are not even the worst things about the FAFSA.

The worst thing is that they want to operate the world on a system of PIN numbers.

Which you have to apply for in advance.

And everybody in your family has to have a different one.

And you are supposed to guard it with your very life and know where it is at all times.

Because if you forget yours, then you have to wait a long time while FAFSA thinks whether they will help you find it in their voluminous vaults where they store such things. Don’t even think about trying to get them to give you a new one. They won’t hear of it.

I don’t know about you, but I have had it with PIN numbers–especially PIN numbers that other people pick for me.

And so every year, despite the fact that I store the PIN numbers in folders which I mostly know the location of but not completely because too many things live in this house, I get heart palpitations just at the very thought of locating these PIN numbers and remembering whose is whose, and then entering them in just the right spaces, and worrying what if they’re wrong because I’ve waited until the very last minute ONCE AGAIN, and what if the government says these are the wrong numbers and they have to take a couple of weeks to go into their vault and look for my numbers, (which has happened in the past) and then we won’t get financial aid and it will all be my fault and March 1st is coming, which is the DEADLINE. The absolute DEADLINE for “priority consideration,” whatever that is.

I tell you, it could make a person delirious.

But last night, FEBRUARY 28, I sat down with all my trepidation and the online FAFSA, filled it all in, and typed in the PIN numbers.

Wrong, said FAFSA.

So I had the requisite minor heart attack, possibly a small stroke, began developing an ulcer and possibly some kind of tumor.

Retyped them, this time very carefully, so as not to transpose any numbers.

WRONG!

Then, through blurred vision, I realized that, ha ha, I had switched our numbers by accident. I had used MINE when I needed to use Stephanie’s. Ha ha ha.

I re-entered all the data. Filled out all the rest of the thousands of pages. Pressed the button to file my E-SIGNATURE, which is a hocus pocus thing so you don’t have to wait two weeks for them to process a piece of paper with your actual signature on it.

The FAFSA said NO.

Had another minor heart attack, several small strokes, noted that my ulcer was in full bloom now.

So I called them up! Yes, it turns out they have a phone number. And human beings. A HUMAN actually talked to me, and at first the human was as mystified as I was. I thought this was going to be another one of those times when machines have defeated us, like when you try to get your bank balance online and your bank pretends not to know you and says you didn’t type in your name, but YOU DID, it’s RIGHT THERE, but the machine says it isn’t, so you just have to leave the internet and go drink something alcoholic.

But then, when all seemed lost and there wasn’t going to be any financial aid this year after all, the human said, “Aha!” and explained that there was one teeny tiny question, one way way down at the bottom of the screen, which due to my hysterical blindness caused by the major illnesses I was contracting, I hadn’t noticed.

So I answered it, and palms sweaty and heart palpitating, pressed the SEND button–and the FAFSA left my computer screen and MAY HAVE GONE TO WHERE IT WAS SUPPOSED TO, that part remains to be seen, but it left at least.

I printed out all relevant documents, slumped over the keyboard, and promised that never again would I wait until the Last Possible Minute to do this, even though really there wasn’t any other way.

It was then I noticed that–hey, we have a Leap Day! March 1st is still technically waaaay off. We were awarded another whole day for the FAFSA this year.

I’m actually ahead of the game for once. AND, best of all, because Stephanie will be a junior next year, I only have to do ONE MORE FAFSA in my whole life.

One more to go. I might even be able to remember where I put the PIN numbers.