After the drought.

So I had an interview with Starbucks yesterday. The general manager called me in the morning, and asked if I wanted to come in at noon to talk with him. This is the first bite I've had in a while, so of course I lunged at the chance. I was back in my routine of meticulously doing my hair and makeup, selecting a professional outfit, and steaming it, praying that this wouldn't be another rejection waiting to happen.

During the interview, I was asked questions like, "What do you think a barista is?" I'm terrible at these sorts of questions. I tend to over think them, and give dumb answers. At the time, it seemed like I was doing well. I smiled, I didn't stutter, and I avoided laughing obnoxiously (which is difficult to do with my rather annoying gaffaw). The man said he was hiring two people, out of six total applicants. I made a stupid 'so my chances are around 33 %, right?' quip, but I was feeling good. He promised to call in the evening with his decision either way, and I walked out confident. Then I got home and started to think.

"What the hell is a barista to anyone?" I asked out loud. Why didn't I say how hard I'd be willing to work, and how dedicated I was to doing a good job?

I basically drove myself crazy for hours. I cleaned my house like mad, sweeping, mopping, and dusting every room, scrubbing the patio wall and floor, and wiping down every surface I came across. As the evening turned into night, I grew despondent. I wrote, I made dinner, I wrote some more, and I played videogames. Still nothing.

Finally, at about 9:15 the guy calls. He sounded down, and said all the interviews went really well. He went on talking for a few minutes, and Jon said he could practically see my stomach drop. Finally, after much adieu, I was offered the job. I felt an odd shock, because I wasn't accepting an apology for once. I said I would love to work for him, and he promised to call again today (Wednesday).

So my depressing stint as an unemployed, domestic Suzy Homemaker, I finally got a position somewhere. I'm submitting two articles to Pulse tomorrow, which will run in next week's publication. The Delicious Dish is mine, as is the band profile for Places and Numbers. Do look for it.

I'm holding a phone interview with the musician here in a couple of hours, so I'm finishing drafting up some final questions now. Just thought I would take a moment to reflect on my feelings. It's odd; I kept telling myself I didn't care where I worked, as long as I could get a position outside of fast food. I found last night, however, an overwhelming feeling of broken pride in the place of gratitude. It was as if the work was somehow beneath me (which is crap)- but I overcame my brief mood swing by remembering my writing. I am building experience by freelancing, and my fiction is being continuously worked on as well.

So there it is- I finally have a job, and I'm coming out of my stupid, crappy mood. I will continue to write on this blog, though, and chronicle my future failures (and occasional successes). Thanks for sticking with me, guys.