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Sep. 23rd, 2005 10:33 amI decided to burn a sick day today and stay home -- partly because I have the distinct sense of cold germs at the gates (raw trachea, scratchy throat, crushing fatigue) and want to knock them down fast, and partly because ... well, one week from today I will be out in Far-off City to Which I'd Love to Relocate, doing the full-day interview for Big Scary Exciting Job Prospect, and I need to do some power-prepping.
Initial prep, of course, focused on the oh my god I have nothing to WEAR dilemma, but thanks to immense good fortune at Opitz Outlet (designer stuff offloaded at 70% off, usually either a goldmine or a crapfest) I now have three, count 'em three blazers that actually make me look like a professional grown-up-type person. There's the statutory dignified black jacket, in which I look rather like Bob From AccountTemps, but whatever; and a very well-cut shawl-collared one in a subdued beige-brown-black tweedy pattern, which gives me my usual unease about "oh god I'm wearing patterns aaaiieeee!" but is really fairly discreet; and then a marvellously wacky *long* one, cut like a ladies' riding jacket, nipped at the waist and with long flapping tails, which, when donned, makes me want to stride about and bark orders. I'd've given my eyeteeth if they had it in black in my size, but they did not, so I got it in a kind of bone-colored cotton, and while it's not at all interview-appropriate, I'll enjoy wearing it at other times. So, with these and my beloved well-cut Brooks Brothers black trousers, I should be set. (I'm not going to wear a skirt, because I have absolutely no skirt-appropriate footwear, and shoe shopping is something to which I am wholly unequal at present.)
Then, of course, I have to do something with my godawful hair, and I am resigned to going to High-Bucks Salon and paying through the nose to have someone who knows what they're doing give me a presentable cut, and maybe some clues about keeping the damn stuff out of my face. (If I do land this job, I am by god going for the one-inch buzzcut, but now is probably not the time for it.)
And finally, of course, I should start cogitating about my presentation, for which I just discovered I'm only allotted 15 minutes, barely time to get the crowd warmed up, so I need to focus compress focus, and tighten up all my good material, reminding myself that in the course of a full-day 8:00-5:00 interview marathon, I'll probably get a chance to talk myself silly.
I'd been wanly contemplating using this occasion (and of course the impending cold germs) as a good pretext to launch the quit-smoking-dammit project, on the grounds that ducking out every hour or so for a restorative cig is not going to come across as Professional Responsible Behavior. But then a friend reminded me that snapping everyone's heads off and gnawing on the furniture would fall even lower on the P.R.B. scale, and so that particular life challenge remains in abeyance for the time being.
And now I am going to go lie down with the zinc tablets and hot tea, mentally reviewing all my Why I Would Be Perfect For This Job! talking points.
Initial prep, of course, focused on the oh my god I have nothing to WEAR dilemma, but thanks to immense good fortune at Opitz Outlet (designer stuff offloaded at 70% off, usually either a goldmine or a crapfest) I now have three, count 'em three blazers that actually make me look like a professional grown-up-type person. There's the statutory dignified black jacket, in which I look rather like Bob From AccountTemps, but whatever; and a very well-cut shawl-collared one in a subdued beige-brown-black tweedy pattern, which gives me my usual unease about "oh god I'm wearing patterns aaaiieeee!" but is really fairly discreet; and then a marvellously wacky *long* one, cut like a ladies' riding jacket, nipped at the waist and with long flapping tails, which, when donned, makes me want to stride about and bark orders. I'd've given my eyeteeth if they had it in black in my size, but they did not, so I got it in a kind of bone-colored cotton, and while it's not at all interview-appropriate, I'll enjoy wearing it at other times. So, with these and my beloved well-cut Brooks Brothers black trousers, I should be set. (I'm not going to wear a skirt, because I have absolutely no skirt-appropriate footwear, and shoe shopping is something to which I am wholly unequal at present.)
Then, of course, I have to do something with my godawful hair, and I am resigned to going to High-Bucks Salon and paying through the nose to have someone who knows what they're doing give me a presentable cut, and maybe some clues about keeping the damn stuff out of my face. (If I do land this job, I am by god going for the one-inch buzzcut, but now is probably not the time for it.)
And finally, of course, I should start cogitating about my presentation, for which I just discovered I'm only allotted 15 minutes, barely time to get the crowd warmed up, so I need to focus compress focus, and tighten up all my good material, reminding myself that in the course of a full-day 8:00-5:00 interview marathon, I'll probably get a chance to talk myself silly.
I'd been wanly contemplating using this occasion (and of course the impending cold germs) as a good pretext to launch the quit-smoking-dammit project, on the grounds that ducking out every hour or so for a restorative cig is not going to come across as Professional Responsible Behavior. But then a friend reminded me that snapping everyone's heads off and gnawing on the furniture would fall even lower on the P.R.B. scale, and so that particular life challenge remains in abeyance for the time being.
And now I am going to go lie down with the zinc tablets and hot tea, mentally reviewing all my Why I Would Be Perfect For This Job! talking points.