I had an interview today

It was awful. I can't stop mumbling. Maybe I need diction lessons. But I've interviewed millions of times. Ok, maybe not millions but plenty enough. They asked me about the one year gap in my resume. I told them a personal family problem made me take a year off work. They looked at me questioningly. I couldn't tell them any more. I said it was a private issue. Then I looked away. I couldn't look at them anymore. I steadily focused on the plastic plant in the room. They moved on to the next question. There were three of them. The short agressive Indian woman intimidated me. I interview so much better with white guys. I can make the prejudice work for me. Brown black and pink guys too. And most women. But not Indian women. They're scary man. They wanted to know why I wanted to work for them. I told them. They didn't get it. I asked them why they wanted to hire me. They couldn't say. They gave me the marketing pitch. If they believe it, they think I will. I won't. It's all so confusing. I'm confused. It's so hard to spin a story around 4 paragraphs. Why? It's my life. I know it inside out. I know more about it than anyone else. Why is it so hard to tell someone about it? I know wot I want. Do I know wot I want? Maybe I don't know wot I want. Dammit, will I ever get the job I want? I hate self-doubt. It's a killer. My Achillies heel. Fear is the killer. Must not fear.

I can't stop trembling. I have the shakes. Like some ex-Club Med junkie. I can't stop. Emily's interview was terrible too. She couldn't divide 10.something by 10.something else. It was awful. Maybe it's a bad day for interviews.

I don't even want this job that bad. I wish I had someone to talk to. You're all at work. Nobody will answer my calls. I really do need someone to talk to. I should get me a therapist. Or maybe a Captain Awesome (and the Wonder Friends) t-shirt to wear inside my maroon suit.

Post post note: I'm in my Systems class and have been talking about GRASP patterns and I'm feeling a lot better for wallowing in my geekiness. Thank you, very nice bald-headed wrestler-type professor. You have very nifty ballet moves.

You will also be pleased to know that my white winter jacket has been returned by drycleaners in spotless condition. Yay Izzy (for women)!