Wednesday, January 26, 2005

Woe is most certainly me

I visited The Boss Man again yesterday. My interview (#3) was scheduled for 8:15. Being the insanely anal person that I am, I planned out my morning like this: set alarm for 6am. Actually sit up in bed at 6:18, actually stand up from bed at 6:20, make bed to 6:23, stumble around room until 6:25, get in shower at 6:30. Then out of shower at 6:50...eat cereal...7am...dry hair, make-up, put on clothes...brings us to 7:30 AT WHICH TIME, I started the car. I gave myself 45 minutes to get to where I needed to go. Good ole MapQuest said it was only 20 minutes but with traffic, all this snow...you can never be too careful. So, I knew I was close at 7:50 so I stopped for a coffee. This, at the time, seemed to be a large mistake.

I walked into Dunkin Donuts and was met by a moderately sized line. I didn't panic, as I still had plenty of time. I got out of there and back into the car within 7 minutes. I had a little trouble getting through some traffic but finally arrived and then...had no idea where to park. I was pretty close to being in the "city" and, because there is snow EVERYWHERE, I just pulled over on the street because it was exactly 8:15. So I run up to the entrance, go inside and...completely panic.

The office is a complete shithole. There is trash all over the floor. This place hasn't seen a vacuum in what must be a year. There is food from yesterday out on a couple of desks. There are piles of trash and paper everywhere. My instinct tells me to turn around and run. But my father taught me never to judge anything by its appearance. So I stay...and wait.

The Boss Man doesn't actually get there until almost 9, which gave me plenty of time to take it all in. I was trying to formulate what I would say if he asked me what I thought of the office. I'm a terrible liar. All those body language things that people do when they lie...I most certainly do. I have no poker face. I had no idea what would come out of my mouth if he asked me. Don't even get me started on the "conference room" (scary basement with low ceilings) and the "bathroom" (hole in the wall with a trash can that hasn't been emptied in at least two weeks and a toilet that never stops running).

We talk for about 45 minutes before he cannot stand to be away from the action anymore. I sit there for another hour or so and just observe, while he occasionally asks me questions and tries to make me feel important. He has his cell phone to one ear and the office phone to the other. He uses the word "shithole" to describe the office and his section of the place in particular. I've never wanted to clean so badly in my life. Well...there was that apartment that Allie and I stayed in Chicago which was...nauseating. But anyway...at least he's aware. And I still want this job. I check to see if I have a fever. I must really like this guy.

He tells me he's so sorry he kept me for so long, that he wants to talk more later and can he call me later on tonight? Sure...and he never does.

I continue to be discouraged and wonder if this was all worth it.

And last night I had a nightmare about the office. The trash was chasing me through the streets.

I had to clean the toilet when I woke up. It's just...horrible.

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