917 Redux

As some of you may remember, I am issue 917. Still. Again. Always. Maybe the Administrivia gods didn't like my burnt offering of red tape and black ink. Or else the Data Entry Demons (I picture them looking like the Gravelings from Dead Like Me) have it out for me. Or I have bad beaurocratic karma. I don't know. But the fun, it just keeps on coming.

So. The whole student loan fiasco last fall--I spent innumerable hours on the phone with CIBC until I was finally escalated to a lovely woman in their Ombuds office who has me fax her all my Schedule 2s and Form Bs (Schedules 2 and Forms B? Whatever.). To make an extremely long story short, she submits all my forms, and keeps me in interest-free, non-repayment status for another year. Except that I have to pay $250 in interest, because although the adminicrats at Dal who gave me the forms I needed to submitlast year insisted that, since I had a Schedule 2, I didn't need a Form B, I was accumulating interest on the Alberta portion for failing to submit a Form B on time. Whatever. This year's forms were all submitted, I was in interest-free-non-repayment status again, and meanwhile, Mary Beth cleared up that nasty 917 problem for me. Home free, right? Right?

Wrong.

In January, Trent's work sent him to Las Vegas for the CES. Since the hotel room was paid for, I decided to tag along. Toni and Brad met us in Vegas, and we had a great time. Once we got there.

Before we left, I decided to be a very good PhD student and pick up some books and articles to read in Vegas. The week before, I had put about $20 of photocopy money on my DalCard, so I grabbed a stack of (non-circulating) journals and went to photocopy them. Except that the photocopy machine said my DalCard was expired. I'm no dummy, so I knew right away that Dal had 917ed me again. I take the books up to the circulation desk, and try to explain that I Am Issue 917.

"I have no idea what that means," the circulation librarian tells me.

By this time, it's ten minutes to 4. We're leaving the next day, and I know that there's no way I can get me student status reinstated in time to get these books. So I offer to leave my wallet, Visa card, Dal Card, my soul with the librarian if she'll just let me run the (non-circulating) journals to the English department--the building directly across the street, no more than two minutes away.

"I have to check with my supervisor," she tells me. And she does. I watch as she confers with a woman at a desk no more than twenty feet away. "Sorry," she tells me at last. "You can't take these books out of the library. But you can buy a visitor's card for $1 and put more photocopy on it."

Okay. I know that $21 is not a lot of money. But Dal has just "expired" the almost $20 that I put on my card the week before, and despite the fact that my tuition is paid in full, has, without a reason that anyone in any campus department or division can fathom, revoked my student status. I am not giving them another $21.

"Listen, I'm just going to run to the English department and get Mary Beth to phone your supervisor and explain my situation, okay? What is your supervisor's name? Would you please tell her that someone from the English department will be calling her right away?"

The circ librarian agrees, and I sprint (I am not exaggerating. I sprinted. In really cute pumps) to the English deparment in under 60 seconds, quickly give Mary Beth a rundown of the sitch, and she calls over to the library. And gets the librarian's voicemail. A phone call to the circ desk tells her that the supervisor has left for the day. Nice, eh?

At this point, I am not in a friendly mood. So I sprint over to the DalCard office and snag the attention of the only staff member still working. I would like to be able to say that I used my charm and diplomacy, but I didn't. I basically had a temper tantrum. The DalCard woman tries to tell me that a data entry error originating in the English department has resulted in all my priviledges being revoked, but this is not my first trip to the circus, friends. I tell her that the English deparment didn't revoke my student status. She tries to send me to Human Resources or to the library. I refuse to leave. I demand that she un-expire my card and allow me to use it at the library to take out books, and to photocopy, using the money I loaded onto the card the week before. A long line of students is forming behind me. I can see that the woman is getting nervous. Frankly, I feel kind of bad for her--I mean, it isn't her fault that Dalhousie's administrative and data storage computing systems are a joke. But I'm also not backing down. Finally, she takes my card outside with her. She's gone for a long time. I briefly worry that I've driven her to some kind of act of administrative meltdown--you know, my DalCard, the Henry Hicks clock tower, whatnot. Finally, finally she comes back. My DalCard, it seems, has been "un-expired." But only for two days. I have two days to take books out of the library and use up my photocopy money before I'm re-revoked. I thank her. Politely. Then sprint back to the library, do my thing there, rush back to the English department, update Mary Beth, and the next day, I'm off to Vegas with a suitcase half-full of books and articles. And, a week later, when I get back, Mary Beth has sorted out the whole 917 issue. I am a real-life PhD student again. I think Mary Beth has magic powers--like maybe an adminibeaurocrativia-repelling suit of some kind.

So much for 917.

Last week, I worked a lot of hours. Not unusual, really; often, I work in the cafe until early afternoon, then make my way over to campus for a few hours. Monday to Friday mornings, I leave the house at five minutes after seven, and I seldom get home before eight at night. But almost every day last week, there's a message on the phone to call back CIBC before 7 p.m. Fat chance.

Yesterday, I get a letter in the mail. From CIBC National Student Centre, containing an Important Message Regarding my Canada Student Loan. My end-of-studies date was August 31, and my six-month grace period, it seems, is about to expire. My loans are entering repayment unless I submit a complete and accurate Schedule 2. Deep breath.

Today, from my office at Dal, I call them up. The guy on the phone says he has no record of my having submitted a Schedule 2. He doesn't mention a Form B, but I'm guessing he has no record of that either. I can hear my voice getting more and more harpyish as I explain that I had them faxed directly to the Conflict Resolution specialist in the Ombuds office, and she told me last fall that all my records are complete and up to date. He puts me on hold for about a century. I fucking hate muzak. Finally, he comes back on and says that, because my forms were not processed until January 25, my file will not be updated until later this week. I have no words. I faxed them the forms last October, they weren't updated until three weeks ago, and somehow, this is my problem?

Anyway. I suspect that the phone messages last week were about the same thing, but I return the call to CIBC, just to be sure. It is, indeed, my friendly reminder to start paying up, since their records show that I am no longer a student. I point out that, had I not spend close to 100 hours on the phone with them over the past six months, I might have actually had time to complete my dissertation. Yeah--I feel strongly that, were it not for CIBC, I would be a PhD by now. So I have the girl double-check that all my forms are received and in order.

"You know, it's actually a really good thing that you called back to follow up," she tells me. "In fact, you should probably call again next week to be sure." She also tells me that the Form B is redundant, and that the only for I need to submit is the Schedule 2.

This is the point at which I finally lose my temper. There was a diatribe. It was unfriendly. I don't remember everything I said, but I'm pretty sure that I concluded by threateneing to bill them for my time, each and every time that I had to call them to confirm that someone there is actually doing their minimum-wage data entry job and processing the paperwork that I have been sending them, faithfully and on time, despite the nauseating degree of negligence and indifference on their part.

"Okay, so, thanks for your call, and be sure to call back next week to follow up with us, okay?" she says just before she hangs up.

I Am Issue 917

God, I hate administrivia. All week, I've been looking forward to spending today on my dissertation. It's almost 3, and I haven't even started yet. Why? Administrative glitches have kept me on the phone and email for hours. Student loan problems again. You may remember that this is a perennial problem for me. Actually, I've been plagued all week with administrative glitches. On Tuesday, I was trying to order a book through the library's document delivery system, but kept getting an error message that says that I am not permitted to access Document Delivery. I get in touch with the library, and they tell me that my card is expired, and to go to the DalCard office. I do, and they tell me that my card is not expired, but that my student status has been revoked, and that I am now staff. The DalCard lady tells me to go to the English department, because they're the ones who changed my status. So I run back to the English department, and straight to Mary Beth, because she can fix anything. She tells me that the English department hasn't changed my status, and she starts making phone calls. She reaches someone who says that I have to go to the DalCard office, because they're the ones who can make status changes. (Yay! Admiscircles are great!) She reaches someone else who says that, since my SSHRC ran out, and I'm teaching part-time, I can't have student status--meaning that I can't have my bus pass (which I've paid for) or use the library (which I need). Mary Beth calmly tries to point out that my primary role is a graduate student, so I need to be able to use the library. She leaves many messages for many people. The next day, Mary Beth tells me that she has spoken to many people (registrar, library, DalCard, etc), and that the library people had told her my DalCard was expired. However, when she spoke to the DalCard office, they said my card didn't expire until December 31st. Regardless, even if I do get a new DalCard, it will say I'm faculty instead of a student. No bus pass, no library borrowing privileges. So she keeps looking into it. This morning, Mary Beth (aka my hero) sends me the following email:

Hmmmm. Apparently the DalCard office has a work ticket system.
You are now going to be known as Issue 917.
Looks like they will now give you a bus pass sticker, and a new
card when the one you have expires the end of December. If they
have a problem with this, tell them you're Issue 917, and hopefully
that will clear things up.

For the record, I would like everyone to refer to me as Issue 917 from now on.

This morning, I was going through my mail to find a letter from the CIBC National Student Centre (I LOVE those guys!) telling me that, as my end-of-studies date was April 30, I am now accumulating interest on my student loans, and they enter repayment status November 1st. Sigh. The issues:
1. I am still a full-time student.
2. I am a graduate student, and my annual end-of-studies date is August 30, not April 30.
3. I filled in and submitted all my forms last year. I haven't got around to it yet this year, but since my end-of-studies date was only 2 months ago, I wasn't too stressed that it's still on my to-do list.
So I phone the CIBC National Student Centre (I LOVE those guys!). I spoke to a woman who was either a Nazi or a demon--not sure which. I explain that, every year, I have similar problems. She tells me that she has no records of previous phone calls or emails to the call centre, and that I should have asked to talk to the supervisor, I should have filled in the correct forms, I should have submitted them to a bank branch, and since I didn't do any of these things, my first payment is due November 1st. I told her that I had gone to my school registrar last year, filled out the forms that they told me to fill out, and submitted them. She tells me I should have double-checked, and, since my end-of-studies date is April 30, I should have submitted new forms in September. I explain (again) that my end-of-studies date is August 30, so I still (should) have time to fill out and submit the forms. She tells me I should have made sure my school gave me the right forms. I explain that my school insisted that they had, that they put the correct date on the forms, and that I submitted them on time. She told me that wasn't possible. At this point, I am EXTREMELY frustrated and, I confess, yelling. I ask her to please stop telling me what I should have done, and that I had done everything that I could reasonably do to submit my forms correctly and on time. She tells me there's nothing she can do about it, and that my payment is due November 1. I ask to speak to her supervisor; she says, "Are you sure? There's a long wait." I said yes, I was sure. She suggested that, instead, I request for a supervisor to call me back. I agree. The problem is, the supervisor will not call me back until Monday--November 3, and my loan goes into repayment on November 1. However, there's no guarantee that CIBC will revoke the interest they've been charging me since April.

So. I take a deep breath. I send a very long email explaining the issue to the CIBC Ombudsman. I call the CIBC National Student Centre (I LOVE those guys!) again. When a woman answers, I make sure it isn't NaziDemon again. It isn't. I explain the problem as calmly as I can and ask what we can do. She puts me on hold to check my file (NaziDemon didn't bother) and, when she comes back, tells me that I've submitted Form B, when I should have submitted Schedule 2. I take a deep breath and explain that, last year, when I went to the Registrar, I just asked for whatever forms would keep me in interest-free, non-repayment status with both Alberta and Canada Student Loans. She advises me to send in this year's forms, but insists that there's nothing she can do about last year's--I owe the interest. I try not to cry. I point out that I did everything I reasonable could to fill in and submit all the right forms on time. She suggests that I call the Dal registrar to request a letter explaining that: a) I am and have been a full-time, year-round graduate student, and b) they gave me the wrong form. She also tells me that, even though I go into repayment status on November 1, my payment won't actually be due until the 30th. NaziDemon never told me that part.

And so I call the registrar's office. I explain: I am a graduate student, I pay fees year-round, I asked for the right forms, I got the wrong ones, and now I'm screwed. I ask for a letter "Oh--" I add, "And I'm Issue 917."

Long pause. "I have no idea what that means. I'm transferring you to my supervisor."

Fortunately, she takes the time to explain the whole novella to her supervisor, so I don't have to launch into the whole thing one more time. And here's what I find out: because so many students drop out during the year, they have a policy of never putting grad students' official end-of-studies date (August 30) on the form. Instead, they only put April 30, and we have to come back in April for a second form to submit. WTF?! I told her that nobody had ever told me that. She says I should read my forms more carefully. Believe me, I will from now on. Only suddenly, I remember getting a notice from the CIBC National Student Centre (I LOVE those guys!) last spring, warning me that my end-of-studies date was approaching, so I went and got a shiny new set of forms. Of course, when I picked them up, there was only a Form B, not a Schedule 2. "Didn't you notice that one of the forms was missing?" she asks me. I manage to suppress the urge to point out that my PhD is in English, not Administrative Formology. I'm glad I did: she agrees to write me a letter; I'm to pick it up on Monday.

I'll keep you posted.

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If I Know I'm an Idiot, Does it Make Me Less of an Idiot?

Okay. I have a pattern: there's something I don't really want to do. Usually something administrative, like filling in my student loan forms, or a funding application, or other paperwork for school. Or my thesis prospectus, or maybe my course description. And I know that really, it isn't that bad, but I don't want to do it. So I put it off. As long as I can. And I start getting anxious. As the deadline approaches, I start finding new and creative reasons not to do it--like absolutely needing to clean out my cupboards. Or weeding the garden. Or reorganizing the shed. You get the picture. Very necessary things that totally trump this looming administrative task. And I start to get worried. It keeps me up at night. I get stomach aches. But I still don't just sit my ass down and do this stupid thing that has me all stressed out until I absolutely have to.
And you know what? It's never, ever as bad as I think it will be. Ever. Take, say, my prospectus. Now, I have a SSHRC. My SSHRC proposal is essentially a draft of my prospectus. But I can't even convince myself to open the damn file for weeks! And then I do, work on it for an hour and a half, and email it off to my supervisor as a first draft. No problem. Suddenly all my stress problems are gone.
Or my course description--I know most of the students won't even read the damn thing anyway, but I wai until the firggin thing is two weeks overdue before I even start work on it! And you know what? It takes me, like an hour. A day later, a few good friends have looked at it, given me their feedback, and the thing is submitted. So easy. Why did I put it off?
Only, the worst thing is, I know I'll just do it again. Anf again, and again, and again, and...

Growing Up Is NOT a Good Thing!

The difference between Becca at age 9 and Becca at 29:

You: Don't worry--you'll do fine on your exams. I know it.
Becca, Age 9: Really? Wow, thanks. I feel much better now. Seriously, thanks.
Becca, age 29: What? How can you make a statement like that? Where's your evidence? Are you citing an expert here, or is that your own, unfounded opinion? I don't deal in conjectures bud, I need EVIDENCE! Everyone has an opinion--my dog has an opinion--what you should have learned by now is to support your opinions with facts, quotations, textual support for god's sake. Honestly, an opinion like that, completely unfounded and unsupported is worthless to me. And cite your source. MLA style, please.

Reading reading reading reading reading...

...reading, reading, reading, reading...

reading.

reading.




reading.

I wish I were a robot so I could just download Canadian Literature.

Hey! How about I send each of you a book, you read it, write a book report, then send it back to me! Why didn't I think of this before?

Marking marking marking marking marking...

...marking marking marking marking. Marking.

Marking.

"I don't really think you need to worry about it being any good if YOU write it, Kyle."
--StrongBad.

More Lakes and Trees...

I needed a break from my Early Long Poems of Canada (euch.) yesterday, and it was fabulously warm and sunny out, so I took Marlowe for a walk on Crystal Crescent Beach. As I was enjoying the warm sun, cool sand and ocean water on my bare feet, it occurred to me that my favourite places in the world are the ones where I've gone hiking with dogs: the rural roads and tiny villages up the mountain from the Diots' in France (with Tacot), Elk Island outside of Edmonton (with Trent and Marlowe) and now, Crystal Crescent. The tide was really low yesterday--so low that the place where Nancy slipped on a rock in the water was dry, and there was another small beach beyond the small one where Phil, Nancy Trent and I hung out--but before the nude beach that Julie, Emmet and I walked to when we lost Bob and Trent (yes, please contemplate it, Gentle Readers). And suddenly, it occurs to me why there's so much bad topographical poetry in Canadian Literature--I actually had the urge to rhapsodize on the rocks, the trees, the sand and the ocean! I guess that's something to think about when I feel that I can't possibly read one more poem about lakes and trees...

Silent But Deadly

Last week, my English 2205 Tutorial was a little frustrating. Discussion was lackluster, so I let my students go home a little early. This week, I prepared a discussion for them about aims and strategies in "The Wife of Bath's Prologue" in The Canterbury Tales. Granted, not the most stimulating text, but I figured we could do a close reading together of a particularly rich section. Now, every Monday and Wednesday, my students sit in a lecture hall with 170 other English 2205 students and listen to the prof lecture on the various texts. Then, on Friday, they are supposed to be discussing the texts in smaller groups--i.e. tutorials--led by a TA (me!). I try to mix things up week to week--one week, I'll prepare a half dozen discussion questions, split them into groups, have them work on their own for fifteen minutes or so, then we reconvene as a group to see what everyone's come up with. Other times, I'll just prepare a class discussion. And the first few weeks went rather well. Last week, as I've said, was a little more difficult. This week, however, was downright painful. First, I would ask what's going on in a certain section. Silence. So then I'd rephrase my question and point to specific lines. More silence. Finally, I would point to a key line and ask what it said. Silence. Who knew that 30 English majors would be completely illiterate? So after about the third or fourth time this had happened, I decided to switch tactics. I asked them to split into groups of about 3, and told them that I would assign them each a few lines to work on. Silence. They just sat there, staring at me, out the window, at their notebooks, whatever.
I kind of lost my temper. I told (yelled at) them that I was sure they could manage forming groups of three. And you know what? They did.
So now I need a favour from you guys. Please--think back to your undergrad or college experiences. What was wrong with the instructors you didn't like? What did the good instructors do that got people talking? For the love of FSM, give me a clue--I am not willing to be that instructor that students actually tell each other to avoid!
(Roz, I'm looking at you here--I know you've won teaching awards...)

His Noodly Appendage

I've been getting pretty stressed out lately sbout my inability to clip through my reading list as my comps draw ever closer. I've also been growing frustrated by the proponderance of religious and semireligious (like the Pilgrim-instituted celebration of the gradual suppression of Native North American culture and autonomy, Thanksgiving!) holidays that apparently make it impossible for my students to hand in their assignments on time. And then today, Philip sent me a link that has made me realize that, like my students, I am in a position wherein my religious beliefs have provided me with an answer to my current academic anxieties; please see, below, the letter of explanation that I intend to send to my supervisor.

Dear Dr. Dawson,
I must regretfully inform you that, due to a recent divine intercranial intervention by the Flying Spaghetti Monster, or FSM, I will be unable to successfully complete my Comprehensive Examinations in May 2007. As a result of my devout faith, FSM, in his divine wisdom, recently chose me as his prophet, and I must therefore undertake a religious pirating journey in order to prevent global warming. Evidence of His decision to call me to divine piracy is that, while I was well-close to completing my assigned reading, He used His Noodly Appendages to wipe several--in fact, most--of the canonical texts of Canadian Literature from my memory, and indeed, He has chosen to remove many of these books, which I had obtained in a very timely manner last spring, from my library altogether. I am sure that you will accept this most religious of academic excuses and will unquestioningly defer my Comprehensive Examinations to a time that is more pleasing to Him.
RAmen,
Rebecca Babcock,
PhD Candidate and Divine Pirate
Arrrgh...

Administrivia

I'm a busy woman--I think we can agree on that. And yes, for the most part, it's my own fault. After all, I chose to do a PhD, and with my SSHRC, I don't really need the money I make TAing--I just wanted the experience. And I certainly didn't have to audition for a play, volunteer with DAGS or talk Trent into building a back patio. Granted, a lot of the stuff that takes up my time is my choice. However, one major drain on my time that I absolutely resent is beaurocratic administrivia. Trent and I have seen enough of that, selling and buying houses this year, moving across the country, arranging for new service hookups at two new Halifax addresses now, plus there's the stuff I have to do every year to register for school, manage my scholarship, grant and TAship payments, not to mention keeping track of marks and attendance for the Friday tutorial I lead... add to all this that, every year, I have to pick up, fill out and run around with a stack of forms to keep my student loans in interest-free and non-repayment status. Not that it was ever a pleasant task in Edmonton, but it always seemed a lot simpler; the student loan people would mail me a form, I'd take it to the University to be signed, then drop it off at my bank--pretty painless, in all. It's a little trickier now, though. They didn't send me any forms, so I called the CIBC National Student Centre and asked them what to do. They told me I had to download a form. I had my computer in front of me, so I asked the lady on the phone to stay on the line while I found the form. Good thing too--it was pretty hidden on the website to which she directed me. I downloaded the forms and printed them. Six copies of the same form shot out of my printer. They all said: "Press Hard--You are Making Five Copies." Amazing, isn't it? That website actually injected my printer with carbon paper...

Okay, it didn't. So I just filled out the top copy and figured I could make five photocopies once all the beaurocrats had signed it. So on Friday, I took it to the Dal FGS (queue #1), and they sent me down to the Student Loans booth in the basement (queue #2). The lady there told me that I first had to get it signed by the Registrar's office, then come back down to her, and she sent me back upstairs. Queue #3 at the Registrar's Office was, by far, my favourite. It snaked down the hallway, and really only moved when students got sick of waiting and left. You see, there were only two staff members in the registrar's office. It's refreshing to know that Dalhousie University isn't wasting my tuition money on frivouous expenditures like support staff. Finally--with Philip and Nancy waiting to pick me up on campus (I had told them my errand shouldn't take more than 15 minutes. Ha!)--I get to the front of the line, where the lady tells me I've filled out the wrong form! She hands me an identical form (Schedule 2), except that this one really does have carbon paper, plus one more (Form B) to fill out. So we fill them out and I take them back downstairs... to discover a "Back in One Hour" sign on the Student Loan booth. Rrghh...

So I get in the truck with Philip and Nancy, and we go to CIBC so that they can fill out the section on both of these forms "To Be Completed By Lender." See, the College Plaza CIBC had always done this for me in Edmonton, and they would also mail them to the CIBC National Student Centre. Except that the CIBC branch here in Halifax (queue #4) had apparently never even seen these forms before and tried to insist that CIBC didn't negotiate student loans.

"That may be true now," I explained, "But when I was a student, you did." In fairness, the nineties were a very long time ago. In fact, it's really incredible that there is someone on living record with student loans negotiated in the nineties at all.

"We don't know what to do with these forms," the teller explained apologetically.

"Well, I think you fill out and sign the section labelled 'To Be Filled Out and Signed by the Lender.' Then either you or I have to send them to the CIBC National Student Centre."

So they run around the branch with the forms for a few more minutes, take a bunch of copies and hand them back to me. "But you should probably call the National Student Centre to check on these," she adds as I'm about to leave. "We don't know if we did this right." And, as I discovered in the truck, she stole my pen.

So I get home and realize that one of the copies of one of the forms (Form B) that they returned to me says that it has to be sent to Alberta Student Finance... only the bank has forgotten to fill out and sign the "To Be Filled Out and Signed by the Lender" section. Sigh. So this morning, I phone the CIBC National Student Centre (call #1), bounce around their automated service for a while, then mash the keypad with my palm in the hopes of reaching an agent.

"Thank you for calling the National Student Centre. How did you find the automated service?"

"Great. Very helpful," I say, and then I explain my predicament. "What do I do now?" I ask. "I don't want to send the form to Alberta Student Finance without that signature. Should I bring it back to my bank, or should I send it to you guys to sign?"

"No, your school needs to sign it."

"Um, no. The school already signed it. It says I need a signature from the lending institution. That's you guys."

"Then send it to the Alberta government. We don't negotiate Alberta Student Loans."

"Not any more, but you did in the nineties, when I got my loan. And I don't want to send it to the Alberta government without that signature."

"Then get your school to sign it."

"No. I don't think you're listening. I need CIBC to sign it. Should I get them to do it at a bank branch, or should I send it to the National Student Centre."

"I don't know. Try phoning the government."

At this point, I called the guy useless and hung up on him. Then I had a bit of a temper tantrum, calmed down a bit, and I called the Alberta Student Finance Board (call #2). The lady was actually very helpful, but she explained that I really did need my lender's signature on the form. "Try calling them back. Ask for a supervisor this time."

So I do. I call CIBC back (call #3). Again, I wander around the automated phone service for a while before I mash the keypad again. A guy answers.

I'm wary. "Um... hello. Did I just talk to you?"

"No, I don't think so. I can check."

"Don't worry, I think you'd remember." And I tell the story. Again. And he's not really sure what to do.

"Would you mind if I put you on hold while I ask my supervisor?"

"By all means, please put me on hold. Ask your supervisor. I can wait all day."

He laughs. I wait. Finally, he comes back. "So the bank has copy 22A of your schedule 2?"

"Yes."

"And all parts are signed and filled out?"

"Yes."

"Then you didn't actually need Form B--that's for people who have Alberta Student Loans only. Since you have Canada Student Loans, you can just fill out the Schedule 2."

"Really?"

"Really. And--maybe next year, instead of going to your bank, you might want to send the forms straight to us to sign."

Roger that. Over and out.