She's a little rusty.

This morning I had a re-scheduled jobby interview.

(re-scheduled due to a nasty bout of foodborne illness from a seafood sunday night dinner in which all crustacean chow is suspended until i distance myself from the memory of spending sunday night in the fetal position on the bathroom floor.)

Important things I learned from my 1st RI job interview experience:

1. Invest in breath mints.

Damn it. My hand, my somewhat slightly nervously sweaty hand, shook her hand enthusiastically to overcompensate for the remnants of my caffeinated beverage lingering in the air after my professional "Thank you for meeting with me" phrase.

For the rest of the meeting I leaned back in my chair, trying to put as much distance between my mouth and her nose as possible. My only real accomplishment was creating huge inappropriate gaps down the front of my button down fancy blouse. She probably thought I was trying to seduce her with glimpses of my olga-flatten-big-boobs-down-minimizer bra.

2. Wear something you feel ultra-comfortable in.

Granted, after my indulgent weekend, the only comfort I could find in my closet was in the form of something elastic. Lots and lots of elastic. But still--there was no need to shove myself in a already too-tight skirt and be forced to take deep, gutteral breaths during the interview in fear of actually passing out Scarlett style right there at the end of the conference table.

3. After you say something funny, don't laugh until the interviewer laughs and you know that they thought it was funny; therefore, granting you permission to laugh at how witty and pretty you are.

I think you can see where this can go so, so wrong.

4. Do your homework. Pie graphs are not necessary.

Preparation is a good thing. But remember that it is not a final exam. When the expected question "What do you know about Organization X" popped up, I started reciting the historic timeline found on their website. When I saw the interviewer's eyelids starting to droop, I schoolhouse rocked that shit into a fullblown melody. Ok, I didn't. Worse: I just kept going. I bored myself. If I had the room in my red skirt to take a deep breath, I probably would have nodded off myself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Do I want the job?

I don't think so.

Do I want to be friends with woman that interviewed me?

Yes.

Would I go back for a 2nd interview, if asked?

Yes.

Do I know what I want right now?

No. Hell, no. No, not at all.

Oh, screw it. I'm unzipping my skirt. I'm freaking miserable here. For the love.