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Entry tags:
Bureaucratic Incompetance
The army called me again.
This is what? The fifth time they've called me in six months since I got my exception back in April. Thankfully, like last I managed to control my reaction to merely annoyed and hopefully what sounded barely restrained anger to the 18 year old soldier given the task to phone reservists.
It's no longer an issue of Them phoning Me and creating whatever emotional reactions I get when talking on the phone to those people. It's now an issue of fucking competence.
I've dealt with the bureaucrats that had my issue, I spoke to the officer in charge of the relevant offices and was told, guaran-fucking-teed that I was off the lists.
I was told, in April, that I was no longer listed as a reservist and that should have been the end of it, not to mention that in the last week of October they phoned me again and I told them, again, that I was off the lists.
The phone-call went something like this:
Soldier girl: Hello Melody? This is [her name] from the [my old unit].
Annoyed Mel: Yeah?
Soldier girl: We're having an exercise on [says dates] and -
Annoyed Mel: *interrupting* Excuse me? Do you have personnel lists that you actually check? Because if you did, you'd know I have an exemption from reserve service.
Soldier Girl: *Pause* You do?
Annoyed Mel: Yes, since April.
Soldier Girl: Are you sure?
Annoyed Mel: Yes I'm sure, now you should go make sure as well.
Soldier Girl: I'll talk to the officers.
Annoyed Mel: You do that.
And I hung up.
I could have been more polite, maybe a little more sympathetic to the 18 year girl whose shocked that people have lives beyond the Army service, as I once was.
But why bother.
This is what? The fifth time they've called me in six months since I got my exception back in April. Thankfully, like last I managed to control my reaction to merely annoyed and hopefully what sounded barely restrained anger to the 18 year old soldier given the task to phone reservists.
It's no longer an issue of Them phoning Me and creating whatever emotional reactions I get when talking on the phone to those people. It's now an issue of fucking competence.
I've dealt with the bureaucrats that had my issue, I spoke to the officer in charge of the relevant offices and was told, guaran-fucking-teed that I was off the lists.
I was told, in April, that I was no longer listed as a reservist and that should have been the end of it, not to mention that in the last week of October they phoned me again and I told them, again, that I was off the lists.
The phone-call went something like this:
Soldier girl: Hello Melody? This is [her name] from the [my old unit].
Annoyed Mel: Yeah?
Soldier girl: We're having an exercise on [says dates] and -
Annoyed Mel: *interrupting* Excuse me? Do you have personnel lists that you actually check? Because if you did, you'd know I have an exemption from reserve service.
Soldier Girl: *Pause* You do?
Annoyed Mel: Yes, since April.
Soldier Girl: Are you sure?
Annoyed Mel: Yes I'm sure, now you should go make sure as well.
Soldier Girl: I'll talk to the officers.
Annoyed Mel: You do that.
And I hung up.
I could have been more polite, maybe a little more sympathetic to the 18 year girl whose shocked that people have lives beyond the Army service, as I once was.
But why bother.
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:) i can't even imagine how annoying that is.
by the way... i FINALLY saw V for Vendetta this weekend... wooooo!!! what an amazing movie!
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And man, I have a hard time imagining 18-year olds with guns. I'm 24 so I think of 18 year olds as babies.
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After having bad post trauma reactions (and a shift in personal values, beliefs, in politics) I decided I couldn't and shouldn't serve as a reservist any longer and began the process, which I was told, months ago, had been finished.
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I did a major research paper in college on Hizbullah. I came away from the experience under the distinct impression that the organization is a parasite that's managed to bolster itself on Lebanon's past inability to provide health care, education and security to its citizens. Basically it filled in the holes of a vacuum, and it had guns. Lots of em. And refused to disarm. I wasn't particularly impressed.
I hope you're doing better. I've seen PTSD in friends of mine who've experienced their own trauamas. Therapists are wonderful people and I praise them highly.
It's a strange, strange thing, too, how violence is in real life. I grew up on a diet of Hollywood and can watch Aliens and zombie movies without flinching. A few months ago I saw The Devil Came On Horseback (http://www.thedevilcameonhorseback.com/) and was shaken to the core. Somehow, with fiction, we're able to disconnect, but knowing you're seeing something happening to a real person changes everything.
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