the suffering masses yearning to be employed
I had a job interview this afternoon. I left early for it, because I am a paranoid, avoidant person, and I loathe driving to places I've never been. I don't know why, because I've obviously never gotten permanently lost. But phobias aren't rational, otherwise I'd be able to explain the nightmare about spiders I had last night. *twitch*
I wandered around the business district for a few minutes trying to find the building where I was interviewing. Some guy in a beat-up Omni waved and honked at me as I was waiting to cross the street. Either he knew me, or I looked super hot in my suit and sunglasses, long hair lifted up by the wind. I hope I don't know him, because I gave him the "what kind of freak are you?" look for holding up traffic and nearly causing an accident.
I eventually found the right building -- the only one without a street number on it, natch -- and I found the right office. A man in the elevator asked me if I worked at the law firm on the fifth floor. That's the first time anyone has ever mistaken me for a lawyer. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
The office itself was colorful, and I chatted comfortably with my interviewers for almost a half-hour. I got along well with them, and I hope I managed to answer their questions intelligently. No "d'oh!" moments, so go team me.
Could be a nice place to work. I'll cross my fingers, and in the meantime, fill out more job applications.
The Evil Hobbit New Zealand Death Flu (TM plum_evil), thank god, receded somewhat last night, and I didn't become a snotmonster during my interview. At one point, however, I did start losing my voice.
I'm going out for martinis now. If anyone would like to write a spy crossover while I'm gone, please feel free!
I wandered around the business district for a few minutes trying to find the building where I was interviewing. Some guy in a beat-up Omni waved and honked at me as I was waiting to cross the street. Either he knew me, or I looked super hot in my suit and sunglasses, long hair lifted up by the wind. I hope I don't know him, because I gave him the "what kind of freak are you?" look for holding up traffic and nearly causing an accident.
I eventually found the right building -- the only one without a street number on it, natch -- and I found the right office. A man in the elevator asked me if I worked at the law firm on the fifth floor. That's the first time anyone has ever mistaken me for a lawyer. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
The office itself was colorful, and I chatted comfortably with my interviewers for almost a half-hour. I got along well with them, and I hope I managed to answer their questions intelligently. No "d'oh!" moments, so go team me.
Could be a nice place to work. I'll cross my fingers, and in the meantime, fill out more job applications.
The Evil Hobbit New Zealand Death Flu (TM plum_evil), thank god, receded somewhat last night, and I didn't become a snotmonster during my interview. At one point, however, I did start losing my voice.
I'm going out for martinis now. If anyone would like to write a spy crossover while I'm gone, please feel free!