Hurts so good...Diary of a not so mad Black woman.

I had my third interview with the museum I'm trying to work at yesterday. Yes, third. I swear, I never had to work so hard for a job. Usually, I am hired on the spot, but not here. Here I have to be screened several times by different people with cameras hidden in light fixtures before they even start to consider whether or not I am capable of doing a telemarketing job. If I wasn't so desperate I'd say Fuck It. But I AM desperate for work.

Now, I'm not so sure I'll even get the job after my third interview. First, I was caught by traffic EVERYWHERE because Georgians freak out when a drop of rain hits their windsheild. Thanks to Hurricane Dennis I get there 20 minutes late. Then I wait ten minutes for her to call me into her office. My interviewer is about 4'10" but has the air of an ex-military soldier. She looks me up and down before looking down her nose at me and telling me to follow her, which is quite a feat since I'm about 8 inches taller than her. After that it was like we played speed 21 quesions. She would quickly ask me a question then look at me expectantly and I'll answer as quickly as I could. I thought I was doing ok keeping up with her. The interview lasted no more than five minutes. After she asked if I have an questions, she got up prompting me to do the same, shook my hand, and ushered me out. She had another interview at 10.

I don't think I'll be getting a call back. This is ridiculous. Just fucking hire me. Of course I'll do a good job. I need to remain employed so I can recieve checks consistantly.

But enough of me ranting, I have to get back on the job search.

posted by Jas @ 11:55 AM