Some things:
The interview seemed to go well. I had a very chatty interview with the Prez. of a company that I really am interested in working with. We talked for over an hour and 15 minutes (and she was an hour ahead of me, so it was almost 7 for her when we finally got off the phone). We had a lot to talk about, and I felt a very good rapport with her. Still, she had one concern about the fact that I’d spent 10 years at a rather slow-moving and conservative gigantic corporation. I tried to ease her mind about it by stating that we were working on some of the same initiatives as this much smaller company and that I understood her concern, but I also know exactly what it takes in a much faster-moving environment (sounds bullshitty, but true). Had a really good answer for every question and countered hers with more questions. I will be very surprised if they don’t fly me in for an interview, but then stranger things have happened before, haven’t they? She told me that she wanted to discuss with the HR VP, and I’m not sure what that means. I ended the phone conversation telling her that I’d really like to meet with her in person.
One crazy thing that happened during our talk was….arrrggghhh…my freaking PHONE cut out and dropped our call! Right in the middle of one of her explanations of something. And her call was blocked, so I didn’t have her number. Almost immediately, my phone rang, so I quickly answered, and it was Company #4259 calling about a totally separate gig! AND! Right as I was picking up that call, The Prez called me back! I had to quickly get off the phone with Company #4259 so that I could continue my original interview. Awkward.
But not deadly. I finished with Company That I Like (CTIL) and then followed up with Company #4259. I apologized for the debacle, and Manager Guy was cool about it. He asked me if I was still interested in the job and if I would be able to meet someone from his corporate office this week. Well, why the hell not, right? We made an appointment for Thursday afternoon.
THIS particular job is not one that I really want, but it could tide me over for a while. The salary kinda blows (but it’s a salary), but the company rocks. Hm. Not sure how I want this all to go down.
Then tomorrow I have this meeting. I was invited to participate in this Executive Program that’s supposed to help me with a career search. It’s something that is sponsored by the [My State] Workforce Commission (because I’m on the funemployment!) for people that make over [$$$$ large salary–yes, I did very, very well for myself until I got canned!]. It’s an all-day intensive class to work through resumes, resources, etc., and it can’t hurt, right? I’m curious about it. I wonder if I need to pack a lunch? Guess I’ll find out. Should be interesting. Maybe there will be some hot, single, unemployed execs there? I’m sick, I know. I’m not proud.
Well, I already suck at it. They have so many systems, and I haven’t yet figured them out. But there’s this one feature on everyone’s profile that kind of pisses me off. It’s a color coding system that will tell you if a person writes back often, is selective, or rarely writes back.
So. When I joined I was trying to figure out the site. You know, poking around, filling out profiles, the usual. But as I was doing that, my inbox got flooded with emails (you know, fresh blood!). I decided that I’d wait to write back until I better understood what was going on. Sure enough, because I didn’t immediately write these bloodthirsty hounds back quickly, I got red-dotted! And here’s the thing: you can’t see your own dot, you can only see others. Luckily, someone wrote to alert me that I had a red dot. But he also said that normally they don’t give newbies a red dot, so I don’t know. Hm.
I’m going to give it a little more time, but I’ve already noticed that I’m getting no real action–after one measly day. I’ve written everyone back (telling them I’m not interested!), and I think I still have a damn RED DOT!
I’m giving it a week. After that, they can stuff that effing red dot.
So last night I was supposed to have dinner with my hot dancer neighbor boys. I was invited by one of the boys whose name I can’t remember!! How terrible is that? See, it’s a group of three guys, and two of them have these super unusual names that are hard to remember (especially when you were introduced after a couple of glasses of bubbly).
Anyway, Leland (it’s something like that) had invited me on Sunday to come over Monday night. He said it was going to be a little later because he works kind of late on Monday. So he told me to come over at 8:15. I did. Knocked…nobody home.
So I went home and waited until 8:45. Went back. Ran into yet another dancer (there’s a whole group of them who live in this building) who was knocking on the door as well. Still, nobody home.
Went back yet a third time around 9 and that’s when I gave up. Came home and ate almonds and an apple with caramel, drank a glass of bubbly and then had a Slim Fast snack bar for dessert. Yum. Not.
Not really worth mentioning, so I’m wondering why I’m doing it. All but disappeared. Funny how they do that when they think the well is starting to dry up. He never even tried pumping!
My accidental date from Friday night called me on Saturday to tell me that he had fun and that he’d really like to do it again sometime. He also said that he wants to cook for me at his house and then “chill”. Um, I have a feeling that chilling with him involves a lot of steam.
My accidental date also accidentally dialed my number again later on Saturday night. He accidentally left a voice mail. I knew he was going to watch some fight with his guy friends, and the message with a bunch of mumbled guy talk and laughter. But I could make some of it out. I think he was talking about some girl who tried to mess around with him (I knew it wasn’t me from the details), and these guys were laughing and laughing.
Playa? I’m thinking so.
My friend Adriana brought this bottle over when we had our girls nite. Yes, 2008 was a bitch. And so was 2009. You have NO idea how much I want to have this chapter of my life OVER with. Perhaps I’ll keep this bottle for New Year’s Eve and toast to a NO-Bitch 2010.
[Side Note: Yes, that’s Jocko the Monkey in the background. I posted that pic of him earlier this month. Jocko is one of the few precious pieces I got from my Grandma when she died. I always loved (and was maybe just the tiniest bit creeped out by Jocko. A prized posession.]
Still Life with Bitch
Loading comments...