I made a quick trip to Jackson on Wednesday. It was sudden for me, too. I got a phone call a few days ago from one of the places I applied, and after an extended game of phone tag, I finally got in touch with the person, and she wanted to schedule the interview for Thursday. I believe this was decided Tuesday afternoon. Ridiculous. I scheduled the interview, and as soon as I got off the phone, I started stressing out — the kind of stressing out where you can almost literally feel your blood pressure rising. After careful consideration, I decided to keep the interview. I mean, I’ve been looking for a job for months now — months and months and months — and y’all, of all people, know how stressful and fruitless the job hunt has been, so I’m really not in the position to turn down any opportunity.
So I rented a car and drove for seven hours, had dinner with two of my favorite sisters, passed out, woke up, interviewed, caught up with a professor, interviewed, had lunch with some old friends at a new Mexican restaurant in downtown J-Town, stopped to say hello to one of my favorite staff members at school, said a quick hello to one of my best friends, and drove another seven hours — in less than forty-eight hours.
Oh, did I not mention I got called about another interview while I was on the way down? Because by some very fortunate twist of fate, I did. And I rocked them both. And I am keeping my fingers crossed that one of them will lead me to the ranks of gainfully employed people.
Now I am sitting at my parents’ house after turning in the Chevy Aveo (and I never want to see it again) with one of the dog’s heads in my lap and wondering how rock stars can stand being on the road so much. I guess it’s probably more fun with someone else with you, but I’m ninety-eight percent sure the recently-acquired twitch in my right eye and feeling of exhaustion have something to do with fourteen hours of driving.
