I have an
un-interview
3:30 P.M. Monday.
With... my old therapist who is now a head hauncho.
I am FREAKING OUT!
I really gotta get over this whole...
awkward thing.
Yes.
He's a bigwig now.
But I'm not 7, I make eyecontact, and I'm not trying to stab people any more.
I am the great destroyer.
I will be prepared.
*stomach gurgles*
uuuugh...
okay... I've got a couple days to stop freaking myself out.
Just gotta let the initial panic set, and then the performance adrenaline will carry me at the un-interview.
What is an "uninterview" I think its one of those... "no promises, but here's what we do, and you might fit in" talks.
The whole thing is supposed to be very casual.
Very low-key and undressy.
I'm still probably going to prepare some questions for this thing, and ... try not to be some babbling fucking idiot.
To me this is like ... meeting the president of a company when you're asking to be a mailroom worker.
And the president used to know ALL of your secrets.
It's daunting.
Anyway, I'm gonna try to prepare some questions, get my clothes together, and print off my resume at my folks'.
And... pack up some entertainment.
Clover has some sort of soars on her feet.
And could start cycling at any time... which will drive my neatfreak mother fucking insane.
At least christmas shopping is done.