Adventures in interviewing.......

I had an interview today at 3 for the officialship position I applied for. Last week my mom and I went to the mall to find something for me to wear. I bought a new pair of pants at Von Maur. They were about $90 and then I had to pay $10 to have the waist altered, because it was ginormous, while the rest of the pair of pants fit perfectly. I also got a nice new blazer.



I was having a great day today. I got a transcript done and sent to my proofer, I went to Walgreens, put gas in my car, then went to pick up my new pants at Von Maur where they were being altered. I got home, took a shower, and still had time to sit down for a few minutes. I got ready to go, all dressed, makeup on, hair looking awesome, and it was 1:30, exactly when I wanted to leave. Clinton is 45 minutes away, but I like to be really early, just in case.



I took one last look in the mirror, turning around to check that I had removed all the cat hair from the back of my pants, and I noticed something. I squinted. "What the hell is that?"



Oh, IT'S MY ASS. The seam on my brand new, now over $100 pants, had SPLIT TWO MINUTES AFTER I NEEDED TO LEAVE. You've got to be flipping kidding me.



So I took a deep breath, told myself that I was still early, and dug through my hall closet for my thread and a needle.



I'd like to take this moment to thank my sister for organizing my closet last year, because I'm pretty sure I would have had to find a different pair of pants -- fat chance, since I need to do laundry -- or go in my now assless ones if it weren't for her.



So I found my bag of thread. No black thread. My pants are black. I decided navy blue would have to do. The thread had other plans. I couldn't find the end of it. The white was open, though, so I just used that.



So there I am in my tiny bathroom, wearing knee-high black boots and no pants (because I didn't have time to remove my shoes at this point), trying to sew shut the hole. This is the point at which my cat, Vader, decided to come wandering in and saw that I was "playing" with a "string." So he starts batting at it, chewing on it, and generally annoying the fucking shit out of me.



I finally got rid of him, got the hole sewed up, and left. You could see the white thread, but only if you looked really closely, and I figured if this judge I was interviewing with looked at my ass that closely, I didn't want to work for him anyway, because that would just make him a creepy pervert. Plus, my shirt pretty much covered it as long as I yanked it down.



I spent most of the 45-minute trip to Clinton occassionally reaching back to make sure my repair job held. I did the same while waiting for my interview. I was REALLY paranoid, obviously.

I was telling my husband the story of my pants (called him on my way up there), and he chuckled. I said, "This stuff only happens to me." He paused for a second, and I said, "What?" and he said, "Well, I was trying to think of a time that something like that happened to me, just to make you feel better, but, you're right, that stuff only happens to you."

He always knows just how to cheer me up :0)



I still ended up being early. The interview went GREAT, and I also got to speak with one of the court reporters there, who happens to be working for the judge I interviewed with. She's just covering until he hires someone new. She was really friendly, made me feel very comfortable, and said I have probably the best chance of getting the job out of the four people that interviewed.

I guess she was right, too, because about an hour after I got home the judge himself called to let me know I GOT THE JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!! Holy freaking crap! I'm so excited right now I could puke. My life is moving forward. Something has gone right! Brian got a new job in January of this year, which was just monumentally exciting because it's in his field. This is just as exciting, and after those two great things happening this year, I feel like we're getting somewhere! Soon, I'll probably be pregnant, and by this time next year, we'll have everything we've ever wanted. How crazy is that? I can't even believe how lucky I am right now.

My current boss and my proofer are not at all happy that I'm leaving, which is also a good feeling. It's nice to know I'm appreciated. I thanked them for giving me the opportunity to work for them, told them that I had learned so much from them and that I appreciated that, and promised to keep in touch.

Oh, and you know what else this means? I get to go shopping! I have a freelancer's wardrobe, which means a small one. I don't see the same people every day, or even every week. I could wear the same outfit for a good two weeks without anyone really noticing. Not anymore!

Wheeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!