Sucking Rocks

That's interviewing for you. It sucks rocks. I have two interviews today. That's right. Today. Not this week. Not this month. Today. Two a week should be the maximum allowable by law. It's mentally exhausting. It's emotionally draining. It's legalized prostitution is what it is.

"You like? You like, big boy? Howzabouta job buddy? Only 75 (thousand) big ones. Aw come on, daddy. I'll be worth it! Sure, I'm healthy. Oh no, I don't do drugs. Of course I spend every waking minute thinking about you, Superman. Smooch, smooch, smooch."

In the past month, I've met with people from seven different companies and three different recruiting agencies. For every company, there is the initial phone screening, followed by a Meet the Mucky Mucks in our offices for 3.5 hours and one glass of water with no potty breaks, sometimes with an additional repeat Command Performance in front of Her Royalhighness (Human Resources) and the troops (potential future co-workers), and finally complete and utter silence. It's like a Bugs Bunny cartoon when a stage performer is greeted by the sound of chirping crickets. Hullooooooooooo... Anybody home?

Yesterday, Jujube got a hold of my Red Exacompta Weekly Desk Planner of Terror and a renegade pencil. My calendar is filled with scribble until at least the Independence Day holiday. I've left her "schedule" in place next Tuesday when she will be in day care and I will be most determinedly NOT in an interview hot seat. I'm thinking... public library with laptop bearing unfinished romance novel in hand or (eek!) maybe a local Starbucks generous with unlimited comfortable seating, an affection for public knitters, and an endless supply of Venti Iced Nonfat Lattes. Hey, that's what Unemployment Insurance benefits are for, right?

Well, that and buying Thomas the Tank Engine logo items as reward for my industrious daughter. Mommy thought she couldn't possibly love you any more, dearest, but she's just found a whole new way!

I love, I love, I love my calendar girl!