I've got a job interview tomorrow. A good, legitimate job interview. It holds promise. So naturally I'm gnawing off all my fingernails and panicking as though I'm about to meet a firing squad. Is this behavior natural? I get that pit-in-stomach, sweaty armpits kind of nervousness that makes me want to vomit. I think the sensation has only increased as my time unemployed has grown. Every day is one more day I don't have a job, one more day of spending money I don't have, one more day I DON'T HAVE A JOB. It's getting hard.
I've prepared my writing samples and resume and cover letter. They're all shiny and ready to go. I've stalked the company as far as they can be stalked. I've recited my biggest weakness to myself, because don't they always ask that? (I'll leave out the part about nauseous pit-sweating). Other than that, I've been moping about the apartment, listening to the maintenance man battle my toilet. It's broken. For the last three days I've had to flush at least twice for successful plumbing. And I have been battling a cold that's kept me from running, and instead has kept me moping on the couch. I AM SO GOOD AT THIS.
Any time I'm sick I lose all ability to function as a level-headed adult. I'd rather have my mom here cooking me egg sandwiches and soup while I read Tiger Beat, or something. I'm easily saddened. I'm easily annoyed. I'm easily able to make poor decisions. So, basically, it's me, magnified. I am all of those things anyway without even trying. But add in a cold, and poof! FREE REIGN TO BE A SAD, CRANKY GIRL LOADED WITH FIGURATIVE AMMO. I miss things and people I shouldn't let myself miss. I want to eat ice cream for breakfast and watch the entire Dawson's Creek anthology. So I probably will.
But what this all really comes down to is I have a job interview in the morning. So if you could please send every ounce of luck and magic and unicorns and ponies and everything ever my way, thank you. I'm getting real close to owning my own unicorn farm over here, and I could use a few more.