May. 8th, 2007

dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Adventures!)
AGH how is it MAY 8 ALREADY??
Maureen's wedding is THIS WEEKEND! brief observation on getting photos taken )
I also have to figure out a travel itinerary for the Norwegians for this upcoming week. But that has, oddly enough, become less bothersome. The cousin, Aleksander, is bringing his girlfriend, [livejournal.com profile] pushyqueen, who has never been to the US before and who also likes to shop. Now, me being an unemployed ex-waitress, I was not going to be terribly keen on the shopping idea, really, as I have neither money nor need for clothes and stuff. BUT!
I am abruptly no longer an unemployed ex-waitress.
Yes, I am as shocked as you.

It's a crazy story I'm not sure how to tell, but on Saturday (omg it is already Tues and i haven't blogged this yet, where does time go?) I was at the bar. Go figure. I was at Nietszche's, singing at the session. It was a sparse session, and a sparser audience, but I have a knack for showing up to those. I love them because it's quiet and I don't mind taking up a lot of time. At crowded ones it's hard to be heard and I feel bad having all the musicians, far more skilled than I, sitting around staring at me. But anyway, I'm digressing.

So it's me, and like ten people in the bar, and a cat, and I'm singing, and drinking.
And the guy from St. Pat's Day who was beside me with a banjo and couldn't remember the lyrics to "The Old Triangle" either was there, just listening this time. He spoke to me after I finished "The Generous Lover", asking me why I didn't have a CD out. Very nice, very flattering. He asked if I went to any of the other local sessions-- there's a singing-only one I've yet to check out on Monday nights.
I said no, as I'd been so busy with my stupid job. But, I added brightly, I quit, so I'm unemployed now.

He got kind of a funny look on his face and asked if I was looking for a job.
I suppose, I said.
Are you done with school? he asked. (Later he revealed he'd assumed I was about 22; everyone does, which I can't explain, but I know at about 30 it'll all suddenly catch up and I'll look 45. Again, I digress.)
Yes, I said. I have a B.A. in English from the U of R.
Do you want a job? he asked. It'd entail a lot of creative writing. Do you do that?
Uh, I said, yes?

So he asked me to come in Monday, and I did. Turns out he's the Marketing Dep't (unto himself, as far as I could tell) for a local company-- and when I say local, I mean, they manufacture, distribute, and everything right from the same building on the East Side. He was very straightforward about all the details, and when I came in, talked to me for about 20 minutes before giving me a tour of the office, then disappearing into the VP's office for like 5 minutes, and then emerging to tell me I was hired if I wanted it.
And then he said, "Oh, do you have a resume or something?"
I e-mailed it to him last night.

So I start Friday, and then have a week off to travel with the Norwegians, and then start full-time on the 21st.

I really can't explain it at all. I mean, at all.
I figure I have nothing to lose, though. If once I figure out what the hell's going on, I don't like it, it's not like I or they have lost a great deal by this. It's not like they had to fly me in for the interview or anything. He didn't even have to buy me a beer, as musicians drink free at the sessions.


I should probably buy him one, though.



Anyway, during my tour of the office I noticed that it is a small company (at least the office-working part of it is), and the women are all attractive and stylish, and I do NOT have a wardrobe. I mean, I've worn a dorky uniform for three years, and before that was a) somewhat dumpy, and b) two sizes larger. I really, truly, honestly have just about nothing to wear.


Is it wrong to want to construct a "professional" wardrobe that incorporates things like these?

aw fucky

May. 8th, 2007 11:06 pm
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (dork)
I urgently need to not be working at my old job anymore, but my principles dictate that I must must must work out my entire two weeks' notice, even though I very badly need to spend tomorrow and the day after doing everything on this crazy goddamn to-do list )

Hoo-fucking-rah. Why am I such an idiot that I have to show up for my last two days? Why am I so stupid? Why did I not say Know what, I can't come in that day, sorry? ARGH.

Because Friday, I start my new job.


My new job.
I don't really have any details yet, Kat, so I can't really explain them. brief aside, half-muttered to myself, about Dooce )

Anyhow, apart from that wholly unnecessary lecture, as y'all are the Internet and already know this shit--

about the job. )

So, what I figure is: If it's as cool as he says, then this is like, the awesomest job ever.
If it is half as cool as he says, then this is still something I can totally do, at least for a while.
If it is one-third as cool as he says, then this still beats the effing pants off my last job.
If it is really not that cool at all and I wind up just being the Monkey (as I know happens to many a starry-eyed new "oh! Creative!" hire, including many in my direct acquaintance), then it's still something on my resume besides waiting tables (which is something that has been worrying me pretty much since I started doing it).
If it is actively horrible, at least it gave me a really satisfying exit from my last job ("oh yes, I start my new job Friday, it's a real job") and an excuse to buy myself a new wardrobe.

Yes, i don't know that I tied that last post together to make my point: Now I have a reason, and a goal, and an excuse, to spend next week shopping.

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