Thursday, I went to an interview at
h̶e̶l̶l̶m̶a̶r̶t̶ the greatest retail establishment in the entire world. Because I always pass drug tests and background checks and am a great interviewee, I know I got the job (although it’s possible that I don’t, in which case I’ll feel silly or stupid for writing about it, and this blog entry will be a less-monumental reenactment of Dewey Defeats Truman).
After the interview (and the drug test, and the getting lost in Phoenix), I had to get the girls from school. They spent the weekend at my mothers and got to hang out with my sister as well. I missed them terribly.
When they were tucked in at my moms, I went back to my house to pack. By the time I finished that, it was already past midnight and it occurred to me that I’d have difficulty waking up in time to catch my airport shuttle, so I decided to not sleep. The shuttle got me to the airport on time and (aside from a panicky and somewhat suicidal feeling upon realizing I had to rearrange fleshy flaps in order to functionally fasten the seat belt on the plane and the overpriced multipurpose wallcharger I hastily purchased during my two hour unnecessary layover in Atlanta, Georgia–because apparently I couldn’t just parachute from the first plane as it flew over Little Rock) I had a great trip out there.
My rental car turned out to be an Impala, which was awesome but I couldn’t get that Lil’ Troy song out of my head the whole weekend. My hotel was nice (in my not so humble opinion), and the first night I ordered an over-priced abundance of food in the form of a sampler platter served in a pizza box from the restaurant across the parking lot and the guy that brought it seemed annoyed that I didn’t tack on money to the already stretching it delivery price to tip him for driving or walking the distance that I was too fat and lazy to walk.
I really meant to go to bed at a decent hour and eleven is totally that for me (considering how late I usually stay up), but the next morning my two phone alarms, two desk alarms, the wake-up call (which I’d scheduled but never got), and the TV setting failed to arouse me any sooner than seven. After I’d dressed and wolfed down a bit of the complimentary breakfast in the hotel lobby, and worried that I’d miss the exam or be disqualified (because, really, I hadn’t bothered to find out the parameters and just knew that they’d said it started firmly at eight), I tried to fit the hour and twenty minute drive into fifty minutes. It was the second trooper I passed that decided to pull me over.
I have another ticket–FML–but it’s okay because the power-tripping trooper gave up on his quest to imprison a pretty young college girl just because he didn’t like her answer to “Where are you headed?” (“ATU in Russellville because I have some important ex–” this is where he cut me off). It was a stupid mistake on my part, and a costly one for sure, but I’ll take care of that when I get the money.
I took the exams quicker than the allotted time, but felt I had said all I could say and did not wish to over-think my answers. If I do fail the exams, I’ll retake them in April (which means another expensive trip out here), but I’m hoping that scenario never has to play out. I lunched with a friend and wanted to go to a bar to celebrate the end of this worrisome experience, but there were logistical reasons that could not be arranged (part of which was the fact that the closest decent alcohol-serving establishment was at least an hour in either direction). Instead, I sat in my hotel (for the second night in a row) with my laptop and people on the internet–it felt like home!
I did buy a bottle of Smirnoff Ice Triple Black for my second (and last) night at the hotel, but I drank it slowly over the course of the night so it wouldn’t go strait to my head. No one was free to hang out with me and I didn’t want to venture into a bar alone in Little Rock, so that one bottle and six Diet Dr. Peppers were my good time celebration. Before I went to sleep, I packed my bag carefully and set aside what I’d need for the return trip. And–to be sure the oversleeping thing didn’t occur again–I double-checked all alarms.
But I couldn’t sleep. I talked on the phone with the guy I’ve mentioned in previous recent posts, and ended up staying awake until it was time to eat some hotel free breakfast, snag my free Sunday paper, gas up the rental car, and return to the airport. My return trip was basically boring and uneventful, minus the sex dreams I kept falling asleep and having so I hoped that I hadn’t talked in my sleep and had the other passengers thinking all kinds of weird things about me.
When I got to the airport in Phoenix, a dead phone and uncooperative wifi connection made for a harrowing wait for my ride, but they finally found me and I got home to my own place with my beautiful babies and this ordinary life.
I did hear through the grape vine that the league of extraordinary fuck-ups (headed by Mr. Never-Was-Right-But-“Love”-Is-Blind) is suffering a great deal. I reacted to this news with staccato laughter. Perhaps it is wrong to take pleasure in others’ pain, but you know he did the same for me (see, he is capable of some forms of reciprocity…).