I made the slight mistake of taking a nap before I went in for my job interview yesterday. I woke up feeling kind of groggy anyways, and I kept trying to act awake. I ran into a friend on the way there and he told me, “You don’t look so well.” Wonderful!
But I guess the interview went okay. I didn’t have the most stellar feeling about it afterwards, partially because I was still a touch out of it during the process. I did try to scan the office for signs of craziness – Carla, the woman who interviewed me, does to have a fondness for rabbits, but she only had like one rabbit painting and a couple of Beatrix Potter figurines. A breath of fresh air from the hundreds of fake flower vases in Jodie’s office.
Carla seemed very nice – maybe a tad eccentric, but nothing too off the wall. Then again, I thought that about Jodie at first. Carla, however, refrained from sharing with me any vendettas against the boss or conspiracy theories about other departments. That is a good sign. She did throw me off at the end of the interview, when she tested my typing skills by handing me a sheet of scratch paper and asking me to update a Word document according to the directions on the paper. And man, does she have bad handwriting. It’s nothing compared to my Western Civ notes (I tend to flat line during the dull lectures, of which there are several), but it is pretty bad and I was rather nervous about showing off my leet sixty wpm typing skills.
I guess I did well, though, despite the fact that I had trouble with the ergonomic keyboard (those things blow, by the way), and that I acted like I was doped up on something. I came home just a few minutes ago, and she left a message on the machine saying that I had gotten the job, and when would I like to start? Yay – I guess. I don’t know. I kind of like being unemployed. It’s nice not having to get up early and stay late on campus, and having time to waste on things like surfing the internet and blogging. I do like being able to afford food, though, as well as rent; not to mention things like fancy hats and handbags. I’m kind of a sucker for handbags, and that may prove my economic downfall. So…what to do?
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Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind. For fleeting dreams have two gates: one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those which pass through the one of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing tidings which come to nought, but those which issue from the one of polished horn bring true results when a mortal sees them.
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