Am I nervous? Well, not too much, not yet, at least. I showered, applied makeup, and then did up my hair in a French twist before I realized I didn’t own a pair of the Devil’s garments. Panty hose suck, but I didn’t want to arrive bare legged. I gave my best puppy dog eyes to my hubby, who dashed off to the market and scored a pair. I looked at them with distain, wondering how ill they’ll fit. Will the crotch go no further than my knees? Will the waistband continually roll down to my hips? Gotta love nylons, eh?
I managed to slither into the silky tubing without ripping or tearing. So far, so good. I managed to stretch the short waist over my long waist, and it stayed put. Yay! Surly, a good sign, right? I mean, if the hair goes up well on the first try, and the hose goes on without mayhap, it must be a positive portend of things to come!
I arrived early. I didn’t know what the traffic would be like or if I’d have trouble finding the place, so I gave myself plenty of time. I also took my knitting knowing that I’d have to wait. I’m glad I did. I spent a few minutes trying to calm my shaking hands before the soothing rhythm of the needles settled my attack of nerves.
A few rows later, I was whisked upstairs to a conference room. First I met with the hiring manager. Then I met with the first panel of three. Another panel of three followed, and then a wrap-up with the manager. I’ve never had an interview experience where it felt more like catching with friends than the nerve-wracking exchange of questions that I hope I answered correctly.
I have one more interview to go, and then they’ll send me an offer (I’m thinking positively!)