I am about to go off to my first job interview in over two years. It’s a bit daunting, to say the least. I took part of a happy pill to calm my nerves, then needed coffee to bring me back from feeling stoned. (I may have taken a bit too much. Oops.)
It’s just that I no longer deal very well with that world out THERE. You understand the proverbial “out there.” It’s right up there with the evil THEM. A popular term I learned from an age old friend, completely brilliant, who had a major melt down of her own in the early 90s. Now we both take happy pills and maintain a very dark humor about who we’ve become.
So, the job interview. I’m in my prescribed interview outfit: White blouse (stiff and binding), black pencil skirt (scratchy and tight) and 3″ black heels w/an ankle strap, because they’re sexy and I have to feel something other than claustrophobic going into this.
This isn’t even a REAL job. I mean it doesn’t have “career” embedded into it. It’s part time and the pay is barely one step above “would you like fries with that?” but it has benefits–not medical, just perks. It’s within walking distance from my home AND the cafe, so I’d never have to leave my own neighborhood. BIG plus. And I can walk Zephyr at lunch or go to the cafe. It’s a starter job for the reentry woman. . . . I just used the word “reentry.” Oh, God. It’s starting already.
Well, here I go. Wish me luck. I have to practice my “why do I want this job?” speech–the version they want to hear, that is. 😉