2003-07-03 - 9:16 a.m.
Yesterday I sat in the company area for 4 hours, waiting for the commander. I was annoyed at the time, because I had been in earlier that day, asking them what they needed from me to file an exception to policy. I was told, just a list of household goods! What a joke.
For those of you who are non-military reading this (all 2 or 3 of you), I'm about to lose the money they give me every month to live off post, meaning I would have to move back into the barracks. This is a nightmare situation. I have a lot of furniture and other crap, not to mention two lovely cats that I wouldn't be able to take with me. What am I supposed to do with them? Furniture I could just throw into storage, but Fletcher and Jasmine? The other problem with moving back into the barracks is the ever present military side of it. Now, when I'm done with work, I drive off post and feel as though my work day is done. While living in the barracks, you NEVER leave post to go home, and you have people coming through your room all the time, making sure your room is clean and that there's no contraband. I'm the kind of person who really appreciates privacy. AND I'd have a roommate! Why can't they just leave me alone with my two cats?
Patrick was complaining to me the other day that the military is the perfect place to be if you want to be an eternal child. You have people who tell you exactly where you need to go and what to do, and exactly how to dress when you get there. You have people who make sure you're living cleanly, checking your car insurance and vehicle to make sure it works, doing tests to make sure you're physically fit. Telling you how to live. You never have to make any decisions on your own. There's even a guide on decision making, just in case a situation arises that hasn't already been covered to the letter by some army document.
Segueway back to the company and me sitting there endlessly, waiting to have the commander sign a piece of paper. I couldn't complain though; they're doing me a favor. I'm trying to get an extention on my BAH (the army acronym for the $$ they give you to live off post) based on the amount of household goods I own. Other branches of military service have no problem with this; it's a big rigamarole in the army. I confess, on my list of things I own, I stretched the truth a bit to make it look like I own more than I actually do. Alright, I flat out lied. I claimed I had an entertainment center, a queen sized bed, two end tables, and place settings for 8. My commander didn't know what a futon was! Which I actually do own. Kind of amusing to me.
Having to wait so long for the commander to get out of his meeting was a blessing in disguise. I was able to meet my plt sgt finally, SFC Calder. He's not as scary as everyone's made him out to be. He also asked me if I was interested in joining operation Bright Star, the joint operations between the Egyptian and American forces that take place yearly, or there abouts. I jumped at the chance. I've been wanting to deploy for months now. He made the phone call right then and there. Egypt! Much better than Iraq.
When I was driving out of the company parking lot, I ran into Jon driving in. Another part of the blessing in disguise of having to wait so long. He was almost done with his work day, and he gave me the key to his barracks room (poor barracks sucker) so I could hang out while he met with his own commander. Which took about 10 minutes, I don't mind saying. I took him out to Outback. A delicious meal.
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