Monday, October 01, 2007

brackets I ain't in

I woke up early, straightened up the apartment for the cleaning lady, went out to this fine linen store Shoshanna sent me to, under the premise that there was an amazing sale, which turned out only reduced the price of a set of sheets from $475 to $300. I can't imagine being in that kind of a sheet bracket. I'm not sure how Shosh is, but needless to say I didn't spend much time there. I ended up getting a set of white on white striped sheets in an entirely acceptable thread count and material for a more reasonable price to go on my amazing new bed, which is set to arrive this week. This is going to be a dream bed. I did not skimp on the bed.

And in further news, I applied for a job. A really good job. Really good. When I put the resume in, I thought they would chuckle and think, 'aw, how cute she applied for this way too important position', and would promptly recycle the paper it was written on, but instead, they emailed me the next day to set up a preliminary interview. Over the next few days I started to think about it. I started to see myself in the position.

So I had a phone interview. Normally I give good interviews, and so it came as quite a shock when I realized, about 30 seconds in, I was completely bombing. I had prepared well and I was still terrible. As it was happening I was thinking, how the hell am I going to survive this? I wanted to jump off my balcony. Every question they asked was completely inapplicable to my experience. Normally I would make my experiences fit, but it was impossible!

What it comes down to is that they were looking for someone else. I didn't have the experience they wanted. As much as I can rationalize it, it never feels good to sound as stupid as I sounded today, and the worst part about it is that I have to go back to work tomorrow knowing that there isn't this great opportunity waiting for me around the corner. It makes me want to leave. It makes me want to call in sick and move to the burbs to stay with Lana, her husband, and the baby for the rest of my life. It makes me want to go home to my Mommy.

In less humiliating news, I've been spending time with a certain South American guy. The weather in Toronto has been great. I've been running every day. I feel amazing other than the breast tenderness, exhaustion, occasional bouts of nausea, and random food aversions.

Unless someone slipped me a roofie, I'm not pregnant. However Shoshanna just told me she is...three months pregnant...with twins! For the love...

Maybe it's sympathy morning sickness. Naw, not even. Maybe it's PMS.

4 comments:

Funk Delivery said...

I'm sorry the interview didn't go well, Rach. However, I tend to appreciate failures like these because they remind me that I can't always rely upon experience. Now you know what changes are necessary to become the person who gets that dream job. You'll get there sooner than you think you will.

Rachel said...

Thanks Funk! You sound like my South American. I don't even know what my dream job is. I have no clue. I think I'm in the wrong career.

Funk Delivery said...

Exactly! Your experience hasn't pointed you to a dream job, so you have to step outside of what you know to find it.

Jeans Pants said...

I hate it when I get PMS. Sorry bout the job. Fuck em. That's right! I swore on your blog and I said Fuck em!