Hiccups

Let me be frank with you about something: I'm cursed.

Well, rather, my family name is cursed. I'm not talking anything biblical, like if I walked into a room the walls start bleeding or as if I'm a Kennedy or something, but when it comes to important paperwork, I'm cursed.

And such is the latest case on this road we're traveling down.

I finished up some school reading this morning, and taking note of the weather (cool, breezy, foggy) I decided to pound out a Long Distance Run (LDR). Today was going to be 18 miles.

Also, I had a sneaking suspicion I'd be hearing from my OCS recruiter/case worker today.

So imagine my (lack of) surprise when at about two and a half miles in, my arm starts to buzz and jingle. I don't normally answer my phone while on runs, but like I said, I had a gut feeling to expect a call. I twist my arm so I can look down and see who's calling, and sure enough, it's him.

I trot to the side of the path, dig the phone out of it's little arm band holder-thingie and answer.

"Hello?" I pant.

"Jack?!" Comes the easy, friendly voice of my recruiter, Sgt. Steve (not even close to his real name). "You ok?"

"Yeah," I pause to gulp a little air. "Just out for a run."

"No shit, what's your milage?"

"Eighteen," I tell him.

Now it's his turn to pause. "Wait, what? You've run 18 miles this morning!"

"Well, not yet, I'm just getting warmed up right now."

"Oh ok... well, want me to call you back?"

I tell him no, he's got priority over my stride; he goes on to tell me about this latest hiccup with this whole process. Apparently, I'm still - technically - in the Coast Guard.

When you get out of the service, typically they put you on what's called Inactive Ready Reserve (IRR), which means that for up to four years in most cases, if shit really hits the fan with your prior organization, they can call you back up to report in. With the Coast Guard, an event would have to be like 9/11 and Pearl Harbor happening at the same time for this to be of a concern to anyone. So imagine my annoyance.

He tells me that I can't go forward in the process until this is taken care of, and there's nothing the Army can do from his end. This is all Coast Guard, he tells me.

I'm instructed to get a hold of whoever did my DD214 (discharge paperwork) and send them some forms (that were emailed to me by Ssgt. Steve), get them filled out and returned back to him, ASAP. Sounds easy enough, right?

But of course, it won't be.

I finish my run, get home and start making phone calls while the sweat still runs down my arms and smudges my notes. I call my old unit and get the phone number of the personnel who did up my 214. I call and leave a message with them, and follow it up with an email that I CC to my old CO and XO, so that when what's-her-name down in Personnel sees it, she'll see that my former command have been made aware of the situation as well, and she won't dillydally with anything.

Within about fifteen minutes of sending the email (enough time to take a shower) I get an email back from my old CO. In short it says:

"Jack.

Let me know if you run into any trouble with this. I got your back. -BMC"

And he does. He loves me.

I run a few errands and when I get back I have an email waiting for me from a Reservist Personnel person, stating that my old Sector (a "Sector" in the Coast Guard is like a mini-HQ) isn't in charge of my paperwork anymore, and he lists off a bunch of Washington DC numbers for me to call.

Awesome. I'd sooner get a root canal in 1885 than call down to HQ.

No emails this time, which sucks. I'm an emailer. I like having a written, concise record of what was said by all parties. It also makes for a good follow-up approach (see above.)

So I call the first number going to the highest ranking person on the list and get voicemail. Very briefly I explain who I am and what I need and rattle off all my contact info, twice, so they can write it down without having to replay the message.

Now we're back to the waiting game. More to follow soon, I'm sure.