I had an interview yesterday. My third since the whole, "You've have graduated, Now go out into the world, be fruitful and get employed," speech my mother gave me. This speech was given to me on the fateful day that I donned that funny little hat and left Mississippi in the dust. Or did she say get employed and eat lots of fruit? I shall never be completely sure, but my mother is one to often worry about my Vitamin C. levels. Seriously she thinks Orange Juice is the answer to every problem.
Interviews make me pretty nervous. But to be fair, I have to admit that most things make me nervous. The worry, planning, and preparation always begins the night before. I put on a mini-fashion show for Adam, parading out every combination in my closet. Begging him to tell me which one I should wear. And him asking such questions like, "Do those shoes go with that outfit?" And me replying, "Yes honey, brown shoes do match a brown skirt." And then I wonder what it would take to get the Queer Eye for The Straight Guys to visit him.
The next morning I wake up at least five hours in advance, so I can spend 45 minutes on my hair, make-up, and dress. I then spend the next few hours watching the clock like it will self-destruct in 30 seconds. I leave 30 minutes before I actually need to so I can make it there at least an hour early (paranoia). I allot this extra time so I won't be delayed by traffic, stop lights, or alien invasions.
Yesterday really wasn't any different than any other interview. But this time the lady had asked me to meet her at Starbucks. I confess that even though I shouldn't, I happen to love Starbuck's overpriced coffee. An addiction I got from my mother. In fact, anytime one of us gets anything at Starbucks, we have to text each other to make the other jealous. But sadly, I only had $1.50 sitting in my bank account and could not even afford a small cup of coffee.
I got there 45 minutes early and waited. The baristas kept asking me if I needed anything, I’m sure they wondered why I was there. At exactly 3:45, I felt my phone vibrating. I usually do not bring my cell phone inside but this time I did, and had hid it in my pocket. Thank Goodness! And it was the company; I immediately knew this must not be good. She told me she was sitting at Starbuck's, and was wondering if I was going to show up for the interview.
At this point my heart is racing as I gingerly reply, "Um, I'm at Starbucks." She actually sent me to the wrong Starbucks (there is three on the same street). I was so afraid that this would make me seem flighty. But she said it was her fault, and she figured out where I was and met me there. This put me on edge of course. The girl behind me who had heard my conversation started talking to me. When she told me this could be bad, all I could say was, "I know girl, I know."
Once she got there, the interview went fine. It was probably the easiest interview I've ever had. I have high hopes for getting this job, but I won't know till Thursday or Friday. And it's the waiting that bites.