Sponge washing burrito bits out of my power suit, I tell myself, I can do this. The burrito was a consolation prize from the last failed attempt to regain gainful employment. I sigh with the iron as it steams the years old wrinkles from a dress-shirt. I can do this. I iron my hair more meticulously than the shirt, ridding segments of strands of their unkempt wave.
And what's the big deal anyway? Its just an interview. I've done this more times than I would like to admit. And this job has benefits, and benefits are good. Beneficial, even.
Perhaps my anxiety has little to do with the interview and the familiar self-and soul-selling questions that I will be asked. Maybe it has everything to do with the fact that I have given up on a dream that was several years in the making and a couple more in the demise.
I cant say that I necessarily regret chasing my lofty dream ("dive for dreams or a slogan may topple you," right?), it just seems like so many years are now gone from my life. Despite the fact that my best friend is a physics geek (geek, in the most loving sense of the word), and despite my knowledge of F equalling m times a, and of the earth's gravitational pull, my personality refuses to believe that I cant fly until I jump from a moderately high embankment and go splat on the ground.
So I splatted and so now I go, with my black suit and straight hair, to an interview to be a receptionist. hmph. I can do this.
And what's the big deal anyway? Its just an interview. I've done this more times than I would like to admit. And this job has benefits, and benefits are good. Beneficial, even.
Perhaps my anxiety has little to do with the interview and the familiar self-and soul-selling questions that I will be asked. Maybe it has everything to do with the fact that I have given up on a dream that was several years in the making and a couple more in the demise.
I cant say that I necessarily regret chasing my lofty dream ("dive for dreams or a slogan may topple you," right?), it just seems like so many years are now gone from my life. Despite the fact that my best friend is a physics geek (geek, in the most loving sense of the word), and despite my knowledge of F equalling m times a, and of the earth's gravitational pull, my personality refuses to believe that I cant fly until I jump from a moderately high embankment and go splat on the ground.
So I splatted and so now I go, with my black suit and straight hair, to an interview to be a receptionist. hmph. I can do this.
Good luck on the interview. You seem to be good at articulating your thoughts, so I imagine they'll be impressed! Best advice anyone ever gave me was "no matter what you have to offer, ALWAYS come from a position of strength". Get them talking..turn it around on them...make it so they feel YOU are interviewing THEM and justifying why you should even bother working for their company. Though do it without coming off as an ass....therein lies the challenge.
I'm shying away from the Shun knives until I take some sort of cutlery techniques class. Otherwise, watch the headlines for "Man cuts onion, Bleeds to Death." I'll stick to my Globals for now.
Knock 'em dead, or however that saying goes. Hopefully you won't need another burrito (unless it's the same prize for victory).
[Edited on May 17, 2006 8:56PM]