smothered hope

On a slightly less, "it's nearly 4am and I have performance anxiety and nobody to talk to because most people are in bed and anyway haven't been available to me lately unless they need something and that just makes me resentful and pouty" note, I just realized I'm going to be interviewed by a woman. Oh, fucking great. Here we go. I've never been hired by a woman, and I think they can smell the "doesn't play well with other XXs" pheremone on me. I hope that A) my friend put in a reallly good word for me, an B) this place isn't as fi-fi chi-chi as it's italian name would suggest.

Nervous? Of course I'm nervous; I get nervous about going to the gym alone, fergawdssakes. My brain is telling me things like the fact that women are more attentive to detail, so I have to consider what shoes and purse I bring, lest the interviewer find me too sloppy to represent her restaurant. Shut up, brain! Geez! The more hardcore socially anxious portions of my greywiring are all aflutter about crap like not sweating too much in public and remembering which metro stop it's located at. Which is all distracting me from actually, y'know, preparing myself for what will likely be a short interview and CV-drop-off. Gah.

I get all flustered like this about dumb shit, and yet I manage big, important shit without thinking about it at all. What the hell? Displaced worry, anyone?

Ok, brain flooding with too much peripheral bullshit. Time to get the eff off the interweb.

back | forth

listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)

previously on Smothered Hope:

unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08