Well, let's start the day at 5 am when I awokened in a panic about whether I could leave Chuckles with day care now that I have been home with him for 6 months. I guess I could. It's so weird that I have this thought at all. Of course, I want to go back to work. Or do I? Yes, yes I do. Sure. Wait, really? huh. Ok. So, I had doubts because of course, I assumed I would get the job.
Which now I am not so sure. I sent my resume for a position which has since been filled and I was being looked at for a different lower level job (a step and a half above entry level). Let's say I am qualified for that job. No problem there. I think they think I don't want it because it's (a) not what I applied for and (b) 3 steps lower than anything I have done recently. Kind of a bummer.
I interviewed with 4 people. 3 of the interviews went swimmingly. HR girl was impressed by my perseverance in the face of IT absurdity (no, you cannot have administrator rights on your computer!). Big Boss Guy thought I was smart and charming and nicely experienced in all the right heavy manufacturing ways. And Young Guy thought I looked really alert considering my child still does not sleep through the night and we knew a dozen people in common because our industry is small and incestuous.
But Medium Guy, whoah. That was one rough interview. I accidentally let the s-word slip in the interview (because really I am not sure it could have gone any worse). While recounting this tale to my husband, he thought I said f-word and freaked out that I did that. Ha ha ha, no s-word and then I said it to him, you know, SHIT.
So, interview with Medium Guy was bad. I don't think I have ever had an interview go that poorly. Bad bad bad. I mean, bad. He asked questions for which I had no answers. I bet he thinks he's so smart. It's not like he asked "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" That, I can handle. He asked me this: "You've lived in the area for 4 years, why come to us now, desperate?" Well, huh, no. I guess I had had a job right up until this point and didn't need another job, but I squeaked something out about broadening my experiences and holding eggs in a basket or something. Lame. Then he asked me what kind of money I was expecting as this job was lower than anything I had recently. I looked flummoxed. Talk money in an interview? Are they nuts? I squeaked something about market competitive salaries and commensurate with my experience out, but really, huh!?!? Three weeks' vacation was also mentioned in there somewhere. So, bad. Did I mention bad bad bad? Ugh.
It hurts me just to think about it. So bad. Oh, and is it worse that he was asking me these questions while we were in the car driving around the plant with no AC? You know, I got a bad vibe from him as soon as it started. Maybe this is just his way and he actually thought I was brilliant. Maybe the other three people will just say how great I am and override him. Maybe I will just put my head down on my desk and think this over. It couldn't have possibly gone that badly. Oh, yes, it did. And the more frazzled I got, the worse I answered his questions. Oh No!
And also, my babysitter was not at home when I went to drop Chuckles off this morning. He showed up a few minutes later after I had used my cell phone to make alternate arrangements involving my MIL holding my child at her job while we waited for the sitter.
And I wore beige steel toed shoes, khaki slacks, a brown/white/khaki diagonally pinstriped cotton blouse and my hair pulled back in a brown leather clip. And then I realized I only own accessories for black-based outfits (purse, briefcase, etc). One of my cardinal rules of saving money on your wardrobe is base your entire wardrobe on brown, black, or navy - not two or more since then you need double (or triple) accessories. Damn. So I ditched the briefacse and made the most of my purse.