Monday, I had a job interview. It was technically the second interview, as they had a telephone interview the week before. Wanting to make a good first impression, visually, I wore nice shoes. High heels. Not too high. Otherwise comfy. But I went barefoot. I did manage to wear a toe cup thing to help cushion my little piggies, but in the course of walking, it shifted, and started to chap my toes.
Once I arrived at City Hall station, first opportunity I could, I removed the toe cups, thinking the ten minute walk to the rendez-vous point would be quick. Hopstop said it was 12-14 minutes, and my shoes were good quality (or so I thought), and didn't think much of it. But each step of the way, was with increasing pain. Soon, my whole body ached, and I knew things were going to shit... FAST.
I went to a drug store and got a box of water proof bandaids and a box of J&J brand "blister' bandaids (which, to be blunt, are TINY, they really should come larger). I put the blister bandages on the blisters, then regular bandages on top of them, and continued on my way.
I had to triage my feet a second time before arriving at the meeting spot, and to add to my pain and anxiety, I received a text from the ladies who were going to be interviewing me. While the interview was arranged for 3:30, the text came through at 3, so I knew that once I arrive, there would be no time for me to freshen up, relax a bit, perhaps crochet, and regroup. Once I got to the corner, I had to do all my last minute hair brushing, lip stick applying, perfume spritzing out in the open, and continue hobbling until I got to the entrance, and somehow or another "get it together" enough to walk to the table without appearing as if I were in the physical agony I was.
I believe it went well. Who knows for sure? Looks promising, and if it weren't for my poor choice of shoes, I probably would have had a very good ending to my day. I intended on going to the Raging Bull on Wall Street and cup its balls for good luck, and planned on going to a yarn store which has escaped a visit from me thus far, as well as stop someplace for a drink or lunch.
Instead, my focus was on my increasing agony and worrying and wondering how the hell was I going to get back up to midtown to catch the train home. I caught a cab, and while it probably was taking the longer way back up to midtown by way of the FDR Drive, we were free moving, wind in my hair, me with my shitty cell phone connection, with an ever-dwindling battery, trying to text to the husband saying where I was, an ETA for GCT, as well as BEGGING him to get me a pair of flip flops. IMPERATIVE!
So I get myself to GCT, and I get a hot dog and an ice tea and try to make the best of it. And I find a seat near an electrical outlet, and the husband arrived. And finally, I could take my shoes off without worry. And once on the train my feet were triaged yet again...
Horror of horrors, in the course of removing the bandages, we ripped the skin clear off one of the two big blisters (one on each pinky toe). It was gross and painful, but the husband truly was mission oriented and got my feet properly bandaged up.
Blisters to the top of me, blisters to the bottom of me (try to ignore the callouses, but at the same time behold that I have blisters UNDER my callouses!)...
Yes, there's nearly a string of pearls of blisters all across the ball of my foot under where the toes attach to the foot! BRILLIANT!
We get home, and I promptly pour a vodka tonic for pain, and gradually top it off with sparkling wine, just for good measure. Apparently, I got a wee bit drunker than usual, and went from a happy floaty feeling to outright sobs. I laid down for several hours, woke up, chewed an ibuprofen, had a yogurt, then a frozen klondike bar, and faded in and out of consciousness while watching Conan. At 1, I got myself back to bed, and finally drifted off.
Tuesday at the office was a whole OTHER problem. I was able to walk from my car to the office (roughly 400 paces), and once I got to the office, the bandage on the epic wound fell off, and it was gross looking, glistening wet and plenty of angry looking capillaries looking back at me.
I will say that if I don't get an offer (whether I take it or not, is another matter entirely), I will be (wait for it.....) SORELY disappointed!
End note: My feet are different sizes. Left is an 11, right is a 10.5. No pair of shoes fit me perfectly. Hence the chapping. Problem also was I was barefoot. And I miscalculated exactly how much walking was involved. Like I said, amateur move. I traverse NYC all the time, and am always prepared and wear appropriate footwear. There were just so many elements of Monday which went wrong on a very fundamental level. I just hope they liked me. The interview was roughly an hour, and very casual. Stay tuned! I'm hoping there will be a positive conclusion to this, and hope to have a blog post wherein I am finally cupping the Raging Bull's balls for good luck. My office won't be far from Bowling Green, so it's entirely possible.
As scary as it is to leave and start someplace else, it's scarier to think of spending another year or five or TEN here and be no better off, and if anything, perhaps even be MORE MISERABLE. And yet? I'm leaving myself open to the POSSIBILITY of growth, happiness, fulfillment. High risks sometimes equates to high rewards. Isn't it time I reaped some rewards?
ETA: Here it is, 10/23/14. Interview was 8/4/14. Not even the courtesy of a text or email to say "Thanks, but no thanks. We went with someone else." Horrible follow up skills for sure, but useful information no doubt. I imagine working with people with such poor communication skills would be downright hellish.
No comments:
Post a Comment