Well, folks, it looks like I’m bombing out again. It is 2:25 in the p.m. with less than three hours until the end of the day and still no call from the woman who has the power to dramatically change my life.
I am beginning to lose hope that I will be offered the job I interviewed for last week, inside connections or not. I bet it’s because I forgot to send a thank-you card. Shit, shit. I’m pretty sure that if I was the first pick for the job, I would have gotten a call yesterday or first thing this the morning. Somewhere in town someone else probably got that call. There is some lucky person making giddy phone calls and gleefully planning their celebration dinner. Fuck.
The interviewer has probably been procrastinating on making all the “thank-you-for-your-interest-but-we-found-someone-for-the-position” calls. No one likes to make an assload of those calls, so she’ll probably put it off until Monday. Or worse yet, I bet she offered someone the job who is like, “Hmmm, maybe, let me get back to you after I receive this other job offer I’m waiting on.” Some days I wonder why I even bother.
Know what would cheer me up? A job. Know what else? Cheesecake. Or pumpkin pie, I’m not picky. I’m a big time emotional eater, and I’ve been doing so well for the past two weeks I don’t want to bum out and go on some pizza-ice cream-cheezy poof binge. The little Cartman inside of me is shrieking “Beefcake!” and “Respect my author-a-tie!”
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