It will be remembered that a couple of months ago, maybe a little longer, I put in an application for Home Leave or, as they like to call it, Release on Temporary Licence - ROTL.
It will also be recalled that, some time ago now, I had an answer to an enquiry on the subject which said basically that, in the light of my pending transfer to open prison, the application to go home for a week or so was being duly processed - doing me a favour apparently. The weeks passed, as weeks do, and last weekend I put in yet another application - a query really - asking what was going on with my request to go home for a wee while.
I got an answer back yesterday which said that the person dealing with my transfer was away on leave so they couldn't tell me anything about the transfer but would as soon as she came back!
I didn't ask about transfer! I didn't mention transfer! In fact I have given up on ever seeing a bleedin' transfer! All I asked was about home leave - sorry, ROTL.
This is typical of this place really. Are we to understand that when one person goes off on a jaunt then whatever department they are involved in comes to a grinding halt? Is that why this place never gets anything done?
It's no use expecting governor grades to deal with anything so important - they are far too busy making sure that the bin lids are on properly and counting the table-tennis balls. In fact the only time a governor grade shows his or her face is to do someone down and, as often as not, they even leave THAT to a minion. Governors are not here to run the place, they are only here to ensure that stress levels stay at the appropriate levels. So my stress levels are apparently high.
Oh don't misunderstand me - I'm not ready to declare myself a basket case or anything like that. I'm not about to lose the plot and start ranting and raving - or worse. I'm in full control of myself and have been under much more stressful times, but I am clearly suffering with a bit of the ould Elliot Ness.
I'm not the only one either! Boudica is suffering a bit too, and I think it is hitting her a good bit harder than it is me - either that or I handle it better, who can tell? She told me in a letter the other day that some of her hair came out - maybe just a few strands, I don't know, she didn't say - but whether it was a few strands or a whole clump is hardly the point really, the point is that the strees is getting to her too, and who can be surprised at that? After all of this time she suddenly found that the Parole Board said more or less that she would soon have me back to annoy her. I was delighted myself, full of plans and little expectations. Five or six months later I'm still sitting here, picking my nose and nary a sign of a transfer anywhere on the horizon at all.
All I've got is a little hope, but that's wearing thin a bit. Mind, they do say that when a person waits for something for a long time then he will appreciate it all the more when it DOES finally come about.
That a fact is it?
I've put in another application, this one saying that I didn't ask about transfer, I asked ahout going home for a week or so. Will the question be answered? I've got my doubts.
Ha! No wonder when people ask me who I would pick as my Patron Saint if I could choose I always say "Saint Jude".
"Why Saint Jude?" they ask. "What is he the Patron Saint of?"
"Lost causes," I reply.
The Voice In The Wilderness
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