Today’s the day. I’m wearing my best clothes, put on some make up, some perfume, and fixed my hair. I look good. I feel good. Confident, sharp, clever. Today they will adore me, listen to everything I have to say. They will hire me for the job.
Going to a job interview is almost like going on a date. You feel like you have to dazzle them, to make them want you in their office until the end of time. Knowing you will have only a few minutes to explain the person who’s in control of your future career life why you’re just the perfect person for the job, you get all the right answers ready in advance, you wear something decent and serious (but with a personal touch to it, of course), and muster all your self-confidence and self-esteem (or at least try to).
Like most people, I don’t really feel comfortable talking so much about myself, especially not with a handful of superlatives. But I know I have to be strong and look super-assertive (and pray they won’t ask something silly like, “tell me five things you’re best at”). Good morning, my name is Ally McBeal, and my theme song for today is: Brass in Pocket. I’m special. So special.
Ready, set? Go! With sweat trickling down my back (thank god I chose the white buttoned-down shirt today, clever me), I finally get there. I’m even early in 10 minutes! Reliable and punctual, oh yeah. But wait, isn’t this supposed to be my dream job? So how come this building is this crappy? No, no, don’t be superficial and judgmental; see what they have to offer. C’mon, put on a sophisticated smile, girl. I open the door and about to utter a polite “Hello” when an Amazonian woman almost bumps into me and shouts, “You Yaara?”
To be continuedâ€¦
September 27, 2006 at 2:42 am
Oh no! She does bite 🙂