Job For Sale
So, I guess it really hasn't been terribly long since I had a good job interview, but it certainly has been a while since I aced a job interview, which I totally did just now. I am trying to not let that high be overshadowed by the realization that the position for which I am apparently so eminently qualified is (once again) in retail. What's more, I already have a part-time job that I actually enjoy (so far), that pays only slightly less than this international-chain-retail job. But, as I said, I totally aced the interview and they are totally going to offer me the job, so I'm a little conflicted about what I'm going to do when they offer me the job. Also, I'm a little embarrassed about their calling my old boss at Mobility. Like, more embarrassed than I was when I knew he was getting calls from jobs that were essentially exactly the same as the one I had at Mobility.
I realized today, and I guess I have known for a while in some respect, that I always break out big words in job interviews. Words I never use, and I'm sometimes not even quite sure I know what they mean, just come sprouting from my lips in job interviews. It never feels phony, but just kind of surprising, like my normally scattered brain figures out how to be organized and calls up these words I have apparently absorbed but not cycled into everyday usage. I definitely used "conciliatory" in today's interview, to describe myself, and I remember whipping out "loquacious" at a recent interview, though I don't remember the context. Maybe job interviews are just one of the few times I talk to people who don't make fun of me for using words like "loquacious" and "conciliatory," which are perfectly decent words, by the way. It happens when I'm writing sometimes, too. These words that have just been incubating in the back of my head decide it is time to show themselves, so they pop into my writing.
When I was in sixth grade, my friend Rob Jack told me that there was this theory, or maybe just a metaphor used by brain scientists, that some people's minds work like file cabinets, with everything properly labeled and put away in its proper place and easily accessible, while other people's minds work like big piles of papers that you have to root through in order to find anything. And even if a person with a "pile brain" has all the same papers in their pile that a "file brain" person has in their file, their recall of it is not as good, so they will not be able to apply it as well. Rob Jack, the kid who knew about and eloquently expressed this theory at the age of 11, is, I'm pretty sure, a "file brain" person, while I am fairly certain that I am a "pile brain" person, and as such, these words occasionally fall out of the pile and into my mouth.
Incidentally, I totally just came up with the terms "pile brain" and "file brain," and I'm totally copyrighting them.
Anyway, I had a good interview, and to top it all off, my tea was still kind of warm when I got home.
I realized today, and I guess I have known for a while in some respect, that I always break out big words in job interviews. Words I never use, and I'm sometimes not even quite sure I know what they mean, just come sprouting from my lips in job interviews. It never feels phony, but just kind of surprising, like my normally scattered brain figures out how to be organized and calls up these words I have apparently absorbed but not cycled into everyday usage. I definitely used "conciliatory" in today's interview, to describe myself, and I remember whipping out "loquacious" at a recent interview, though I don't remember the context. Maybe job interviews are just one of the few times I talk to people who don't make fun of me for using words like "loquacious" and "conciliatory," which are perfectly decent words, by the way. It happens when I'm writing sometimes, too. These words that have just been incubating in the back of my head decide it is time to show themselves, so they pop into my writing.
When I was in sixth grade, my friend Rob Jack told me that there was this theory, or maybe just a metaphor used by brain scientists, that some people's minds work like file cabinets, with everything properly labeled and put away in its proper place and easily accessible, while other people's minds work like big piles of papers that you have to root through in order to find anything. And even if a person with a "pile brain" has all the same papers in their pile that a "file brain" person has in their file, their recall of it is not as good, so they will not be able to apply it as well. Rob Jack, the kid who knew about and eloquently expressed this theory at the age of 11, is, I'm pretty sure, a "file brain" person, while I am fairly certain that I am a "pile brain" person, and as such, these words occasionally fall out of the pile and into my mouth.
Incidentally, I totally just came up with the terms "pile brain" and "file brain," and I'm totally copyrighting them.
Anyway, I had a good interview, and to top it all off, my tea was still kind of warm when I got home.