Storming the Castle

I finally got that job interview. You know, the one where I actually get to shake someone's hand instead of answering questions in drop-down boxes on a screen. It went really well, though the day got off to a rocky start.

First, I was awoken at 6:20 (instead of 7:00) by a surge suppressor (instead of my iphone's marimba alarm, the only ringtone that doesn't skyrocket my pulse up to 180 'cause I freak out). The usual reason for a beeping surge suppressor is a power outage. That, accompanied by an otherwise queerly silent house and a dead digital clock, confirmed that we had indeed lost power. I flipped over onto my stomach, buried my face in my pillow (I can successfully breathe only being a little propped up now) and hoped very strongly it would come back on because no one should go to a job interview dirty, unless it would somehow help you get hired (in my case, it wouldn't).

Thankfully, by the time I crawled out of bed the power came back on, as mysteriously as it had gone off.

I ate breakfast and got around rather slowly, ditching the running shorts for chinos, my lucky bracelet for lucky underwear, wavy hair for straight. I even put on mascara (truth: first time since the wedding ha ha).

Then, somehow it was 9:15, Isaac was yelling at me to "have fun storming the castle", and I was running through the chilly air (*wah*) to my car, jumping in the driver's seat and gunning it out of the driveway, not even taking the time to plug in my ipod. I just knew that for the third time in my life I was going to be late, and of course it'd have to be on the most critical day that I needed to not be (hello preposition. Also hello CS Lewis because he ends his sentences that way too).

I wasn't late.

Despite getting stuck behind slow cars at inopportune moments (like, the whole way there), I still made it with 7 minutes to spare. Enough time to pull on my shoes, straighten my sweater, reapply lip gloss, strike the superman pose, and storm the castle...er, walk through the door of Kelly Services...5 minutes fashionably early.

What followed was a blur of paperwork and answering stupid questions in which I had to actually talk about myself in a self-promoting manner.

I have a blog. Whose subject is me. Therefore you'd think I'd be good at promoting myself. But it still felt really weird...

Anyhow, they must have recognized that I have some kind of potential inside of me; because despite my lack of skills, she not only said she'd put me on the hiring list at CMOG like I wanted (they aren't hiring at the moment, but should be soon), she also is recommending me to the Rockwell Museum of Art for some part-time work they have available and sending my job application to just about every business in Corning and Elmira that they have contact with.

Score. I don't feel quite so hopeless anymore.

A little less than an hour later I was sitting back in my car, giggling. Yes, giggling. Because I've never done something like that before, and it didn't kill me! And I didn't throw up! The only other job interview I've ever had was with ProCare and that one was rather informal (as in, I got hired in flip-flops). So, as silly as it may sound, doing that this morning felt like a bit of an accomplishment.

I wanted to celebrate somehow, so I thought about treating myself to lunch...then I thought I'd just grab a little dessert instead...then I figured maybe just a drink... But after pondering it for 30 seconds I drove straight past Wegmans and Market St. because I decided I really didn't have money to invest in myself in that way. Spending $3 here is 2.35€ less I'll have to spend in Italy (which, yes, is the first time I'm mentioning my hoped-for destination on this blog).

I'm not quite counting pennies (at least not yet ;) but I am counting dollars!

The drive home was uneventful. Aside from some rather loud singing because, along with being able to breathe at night, my voice is no longer an octave too low.