April 12, 2002
I screwed up. I am not sure exactly how it started, but I totally flubbed this interview yesterday. I think I went in with some big questions about a job whose description mentioned "up to 50 hours a week."
And as I went, it got a lot worse. I had bought a very expensive suit at Macy's. Maybe I just subconciously wanted to use it more and justify the expense on our credit card.
Maybe it got worse when I assumed, erroneously, that I was the only one they were interviewing because I was the only resume they'd received directly. Maybe it got worse when they asked about salary requirements and I told them I exactly the range I wanted and why. I knew it was within their range, but dude, talking money in the first interview in terms of specifics? Gack...massive faux paus.
Maybe it was that I couldn't get the one interviewer to smile and I had the definite impression he was glowering at me. Or it was that I omitted the similar work I'd done at UC Davis and I really think that would have helped.
Maybe it was that I just felt over-confident and that I wasn't as careful about how and what I was saying. Where was I going with that stupid whining about my DSL being down after they told me they use VPN and expect their salaried employees to do the same.
Maybe it was once again the realization that I hate interviewing. All you want to do is get them to like you and all they're supposed to do is be aloof, which means that no matter how much you like them, there's a good chance they're interviewing you just to make you squirm uncomfortably.
Maybe I just suck.
Maybe.
And dude, I soooo need to learn MSProject or Visio. I am teetering on the brink of a project manager job and the only thing missing is that one stupid software program. I wish Microsoft would hurry up and mail that beta I ordered already. It's the least they could do if they're not giving me a job.
What I hate about interviewing most is that despite the fact that I know what is okay and not okay to say in an interview, I still managed to stick my foot in my mouth. At this point, unless an act of God prevails, I am practicing the fine art of interviewing.
Suffice it to say, I'm a little out of practice on my brush strokes and lacking the artistry I am capable of.
And the thing that scares me is when I think about not working. I don't cringe about the money. I think about the big garden I can have, and the canning and freezing I can do. I think about all the money I can save on childcare. And under that is this underlying petrifying terror that I'll become a stay-at-home mom and adore it.
Genny's at an adorable age, saying words like a "mo pease" (more please) "takoo" (thank you) and "lu-u" (I love you). Russell's just really cool. He's starting to get body stank, so Mike and I had the first "your body is changing" conversation with him and get him deodorant. At his age, I was getting pubic hair, so we had the puberty discussion. We weren't embarrassed, but he sure was. God, it was so freakin' cute. I felt all cool and new age because Mike and I both did it. I know in a lot of families it's a conversation that usually goes along gender lines to the appropriate pairing of mother/daughter and father/son. It sure did in my house. My mom had no idea what premature ejaculation was, for example. I read it in a book and asked.
I'm exhausted to whole new highs of exhaustion brought on by nowhere near enough sleep. Working all day to find a job and working half the night to finish the one I have can do that to even the strongest human being.
And when I'm not doing one of those things or sleeping, I'm worrying incoherently about how it will all turn out.
I wonder what the universe has in mind for me? I feel like God is saving up for a big whammy.
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