I have an interview today. And for all of my fashion expertise (hahahahahahahahahahaah. ahhhh. hahahahahahahhaha) I am really bad at dressing myself in anything other than jeans and hoodies. As my good old bff will attest, nothing grants as much mid-section grace as a hoodie. Sure, you might look pregnant, but those dang kangaroo pocket obscure things just enough that most people think twice about asking. Except that bimbo in the checkout line. Why is it ALWAYS my cashier that loves to stick her foot in her mouth?
"Ohmygosh! When are you due? Are you SO excited? Boy or Girl? Is it your first?" all comes out before I manage to snap : "Not pregnant. Just fat. Thanks" That shuts her up. Every time. It always seems to happen just after I drop three pounds and I start to feel like I Am Awesome. Pride goeth...
Anyway, back to dressing for an interview, and doing it badly. The worst part about today is that I am interviewing for a classy clothing/housewares store (I know, right? What is that, IKEA/Coldwater Creek? Close!) - the new Pendleton Wool Outlet that's opening here in bend. Josh says I should wear a dress because slacks scream lesbian. I am not sure what makes him say that, other than he is worried about someone of ANY gender hitting on me and I look so dang good in slacks. Especially the kind with pleats. My personal sense is that I should go looking like something that my grandmother would approve of, and I don't have any of those kinds of dresses. So slacks it is. Pendleton Wool always reminds me of my grandma, maybe because she kept a little Pendleton blanket in the back seat of her Volkswagon Rabbit that was really itchy and smelled like her cigarettes, which is somehow really comforting sounding right now. All I really know is that my interview is at noon and if I start dressing now I might have settled on something that I only hate a little by the time I absolutely have to leave. Moments like this I really wish I could have my fashion forward cousin body double for me, or my I-do-professional-every-day sister in law. I don't suppose Pendleton makes hoodies?
I have an interview tomorrow as well. Tomorrow's interview is much more my style. It's a warehouse job that sounds a little bit sucky except people bring their dogs to work, and they said if I dress up at all for the interview they would probably make fun of me behind my back. No really, he said that. Guess who's rocking a hoodie to an interview? The only thing I don't like about this job prospect is that the warehouse is unheated. And I hate being cold. Only slightly less than I hate being hungry or bored, but it still ranks near the top of my Least Favorite Things. Also, this job is potentially full time, and as I discussed with Josh last night, I am really not looking for full time work. I would really be best suited to an on call job - where I can work when I call them and tell them I want to. Which would probably be from like 10 am - 10 pm one day a week. Or like noon to midnight 4 days a week so I don't have to make dinner or help with homework. But only once a month. I am an excellent candidate.
Why exactly, you ask, with such lofty employment aspirations, am I even applying for jobs? Truth be told it's mostly to appease the guilt I have for my impulsive spending habits, and for the employee discount. Can you imagine a whole house of Pendleton awesomeness? I have one Pendleton Blanket. The limited edition Smokey Bear Throw. Of course. It's one of my favorite possessions, obviously, and nothing makes me mad like picking Truck hair off of this gem. That's the trouble with wool. By now my blanket has softened up nicely and it shakes out pretty well, but Truck is well enough trained that if the Smokey blanket is out on the couch he takes one sniff and steers a wide berth around it. Emmy needs some more training in this, apparently.
Anyway, I'll let you know how the interviews go, but if I were you, I'd be rooting for epic fails, because they're way funnier to talk about. Like that time I interviewed for the Buckle. That was awesome. There's nothing like a homely, too-skinny girl with Tammy Faye makeup, patronizing you for your million kids and "crazy busy" job history. Apparently they were looking for focused career types at the Buckle. Someone to really grab jean sales by the horns and look towards retirement. And also someone with more hairspray. Maybe I should have worn a hoodie to that one.