Phone Interview

Oh, hey my phone's ringing and it's a random number. Usually this isn't a gut-wrenching, nerve-shredding event unless you were expecting that call seven minutes ago and you are faking a personal appointment, sitting in a parking lot one away from the one your boss can see from her window and wishing that you weren't thinking of jokes that you can't tell people or wearing pantyhose in the car in the sun.

I did this all for a phone interview... I mean I was meeting with my dealer/gyno/priest (options not one person...or is it?). And what do I get for said sweat fest? Not drugs, a pap, or salvation, of course, but rather a bit of potential hope and an upset stomach.

This false hope thing is exhausting. I spent the last year hanging out with it (not to be confused with Hope who I have also spent the last year hanging out with but she is a proper noun) and its worn me down. So, they say, I'll call you or she'll call you. And I expect a call, silly me. So I check my email on my coworker's smarter phone, maybe she meant email when said call, it could happen. Nah, nada. So tomorrow I'll go to my job instead of a real live interview, all because I don't get inDesign (I'd assume).

I mean come on, I said things like adolescent and tutor and maybe confessed to transferring colleges. I didn't even visibly sweat. What else could have I have to done to impress these folks?