I had a fabulous weekend. I’ve been in a bit of what can only be described as a deficit lately. Energy deficit, Time deficit, Money deficit… Fun deficit.
I mean all these job interviews are great… I’ve been feeling very positive about them, and my flattie has been telling me how much brighter I seem at the end of my days right now. BUT it does mean long days, and high tension, and anxiety… Oh boy, the anxiety…
As we all know, anxiety is not conducive to relaxation and fun. Anxiety is conducive to headaches, and long nights spent lying awake staring out my window running over to top ten awful things that could happen at tomorrows interview. (What can I say, I am a fan of lists.)
Although the funny thing is that several of those top ten things have already happened, and actually it wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t anything like the world-ending TERRIBLENESS that I’d imagined.
I guess I really do have a talent for exaggeration.
So what did I get up to in my last weekend before work conference madness? Well on Saturday there was some pretty intensive napping in the sun. My bed at the moment is positioned for optimum sun catchage. From 8am through to 2pm, I get direct sun directly on the bit of my bed that I sprawl over to read on.
I’ve also recently changed the way my bed is set up… I was hanging upside down off it one morning being all “Ugh. Why do I even have to get up. I’ll bet the Queen of England is allowed to spend as many days as she likes sprawling in bed. I’ll bet they even bring her reading material, and food, and more pillows, so she’s extra comfortable while she’s not getting up and getting ready for work.”
And then I saw that my bed actually has a lower setting… So naturally at my first opportunity, I wrestled my mattress out of the way, spent two hours trying to find out where I’d last put my allen key, and then dismantled my bed, and re-assembled it roughly two inches off the ground.
I don’t know why, but there’s something very decadent about sleeping this close to the ground. Especially because my bed cover is all silky sexy red, and I tend to surround myself with pillows.
Also it makes for a much less jarring morning. I simply roll out of bed onto the carpet when my alarm goes off, and then over the next ten minutes I sort of crawl my way to the bathroom for a shower. I don’t even have to stand up anymore! And should I wish to snooze on the way, well then I can. And there’s no danger of me snoozing longer than I should because the ground is actually pretty uncomfortable, and it’s too damn cold for any kind of doorway napping right now.
As for the fun quota: Becks turned 32 last week, so we had awesome party times in the flat on Saturday night. Much fun was had. I also got to catch up with a bunch of people that I hardly ever get to catch up with. Mostly because I changed gyms, so I don’t get to work out with them anymore. (That’s the one thing I miss about Configure. Les Mills just isn’t as friendly.)
Then on Sunday I lured Louise to the gym, and sprung one of the dreadful circuit things that my personal trainers favor on her. Then we had brunch, and went shopping along cuba street, were we proceeded to annoy the living crap out of stuffy shop assistants. Those ’boutique’ second-hand stores really do take themselves seriously, huh!?
And then Louise brought me an awesome hat. I kind of love it, and might have to wear it everywhere from now on. She tried it on too, and it totally made her look like an urchin from a Charles Dickens novel. I still told her that she could borrow it though. You never know when you’re going to need to look like an urchin.
The Top Ten Things that could go wrong in Tuesdays Interview:
10. I could get lost, and end up showing up late. (Except this happened to me once before, and I was HALF AN HOUR late, and I still got the job.)
9. I could get stuck without anything that’s not a smart-ass comment to a stupid (yet obviously important to the interviewer) question.
8. I could be wearing the wrong thing. (Like that disastrous interview with the old nurses. Ick. They did NOT like my cute dress and crisp white shirt combo.)
7. I could forget the name of the person I’m talking to and refer to him or her as ‘you there’. (This has actually happened a few times before, because I am shit with names. Most of the time this gets a laugh. Except the disastrous interview, where both ladies sat there with stone faces.)
6. I could have a major wardrobe malfunction… Like *gasp* a hole in my stocking. Or that time my heel broke and I kind of had to limp in order to not snap it off completely.
5. I could show up at the reception desk and somehow completely forget the name of the person I’m interviewing with. (This actually happens to me all the time. Luckily I’ve taken to writing all this stuff in my Enviro Diary. However, sometimes pulling out a daily planner with a whimsical picture of a frog on the front gives the wrong impression in stuffy government department interviews.)
4. I could forget all the key words on the job description, and have to resort to winging it (which invariably leads to me saying ‘um’ and ‘like’ and ‘you know’ a lot.)
3. I could accidentally give my interviewer my patented ‘are you actually seriously that mentally deficient?’ look. Sometimes they like it because it gives the impression that I’m smart, but most of the time they get all defensive, and start feeling judged. It’s not a good way to get on the good-side of a future boss.
2. I have a complete blank when it comes to the ‘so do you have any questions for us?’ Portion of the interview, and end up asking something about the social club. For the record: I have never, not once, been a member of a social club. I just plain feel uncomfortable drinking to excess with people I have to work with, so me asking this question gives my potential employer the (incorrect) impression that I am a social person.
1. I could answer a question with an incorrect example, thereby shredding the space-time continuum, and releasing alien zombies from a George A. Romero movie into the world, where they proceed to eat my interviewers brrraaaiiinnns.
Then the dragons firebomb the interview room, and we all have to make awkward small talk while hiding under the conference table and waiting for grenade-toting reinforcements to arrive.