Friday, June 4, 2010

Prelude To The Busy

I don't even know how this happens.

When I first interviewed for this job, it was on a Friday.  A Friday afternoon at 4PM.  A Friday afternoon at 4PM on a beautiful late Summer day, when my friends were calling me to knock off early and join them at happy hour.

But happy hour.  Job interview.

Maybe it was just by virtue of the fact that I was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice that I got this job:  "What?  She's willing to show up at four o'clock on a beautiful Friday afternoon instead of hang out with her friends?  Hire that girl immediately!!!"

Or at least I like to think that's what happened.  That answer is so much better than the "All other candidates were eaten by mountain lions" explanation for me getting this job.

Flash forward some months--I still haven't been fired (How long can I keep this up?) and now my boss wants to interview me for some other, apparently cooler, job than the one I'm doing now, and what did he do?  Scheduled the damn interview at 4PM next Friday.

Am I missing the crucial gene that makes a person stop and say, "That doesn't really work for me--can we do this on Tuesday morning, instead?"


I mean...even someone as gung-ho as I am is going to be three steps into Don't Give A Shit Land by 4PM next Friday.  I'm already half-way there, and the schedule for next week is insane: OffSiteTraining!OffSiteTraining!OffSiteTraining!OffSiteTraining!OffSiteTraining!OffSiteTraining!, mixed with AttendLastWeekOfSchoolActivities!AttendLastWeekOfSchoolActivities!AttendLastWeekOfSchoolActivities!, and also MakeYourHouseSpotlessForGuests!, plus TryToFindTimeToSleepForAChange!. 

After all of that?  JOB INTERVIEW.


Never mind the fact that somewhere in that timeline I'm going to have to figure out how I'm going to get downtown to see Justin Currie play (also Friday, thank you), since the Twins have a home game that night and from what I can tell, the best bet for getting to the Fine Line when the Twins are in town would be to simply walk there from my house. 

It's only 5 miles.

Of course I'll be sitting in the interview, sweating the time because I'm more worried about getting a decent seat for JC than I am about getting the stupid job.  As a result, I will likely spew all kinds of insane sh*t that will bounce around the room in the most peculiar way, making everyone uncomfortable. 

If history prevails, my I Don't Really Need This Gig aura will carry me through to victory.  Or, I'll get fired.  Either/Or.

It is entirely possible that by the time I get done with the job interview I'll be so completely nuts that I'll end up hiring some ridiculous car to take us downtown, like a stretch Hummer--the more hideous, the better.  After all, we want to look thoroughly bizarre when we arrive....and when we have to get dropped off four blocks away from the venue since the streets are closed due to the f*cking baseball game. 

The good news is that when driving yourself to a concert is completely out of the question, you are free to imbibe--you can actually have a grown up beverage.  Or two.  Maybe six.  The bad news is that after the busy week I'm about to have, I'll be so exhausted that I'll probably slip into a coma if I drink anything other than coffee. 

Exactly how rude is it to fall asleep during a performance?

Anyway...I will try to check in once in a while to keep the blog up to date next week, but if you're really curious, I would recommend Twitter for more consistent updates....I'm not saying that the Twitter updates will be anything more than over-tired, sloppy drivel, but, incoherence is much more entertaining in small doses, so give it a shot...

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