In which our herione waits for the phone to ring

I have been in this place many times, for many reasons. Since I contracted the Black Plague I had to delay my interview with Work Place Group, the temp agency that thought I couldn't possibly even be considered as a candidate because I had committed the ultimate heresy of working primarily for non-profits. Since my righteous indignation moment I have learned that particularly here in the middle of the country people seem to think that one doesn't work their ass off for non-profit and work they for free. Ha! But I digress.

Last Monday I dragged my drooping ass and ashen complexion (this was confirmed by my friend Lisa who's car I borrowed for said interview - Thanks honey! Way to bolster someone before their meeting with the Devil) to their offices for assessment testing and a brief interview/information meeting of what they provide. It was amazing I could focus enough on the screen to take quizzes on my knowledge base of Word and Excel, typing speed and keystroke speed. Luckily by their (clearly meager) standards I did quite well, though my wpm was truly sad by my standards. Just that morning they had a job come through that they believed was just up my alley. It is too, but it's temp to hire and I'm not sure I am ready to commit to anything (have I mentioned I have commitment issues? No? Well it's why I don't have a tattoo. Yet.) Plus there is that little detail of being out of town in June (NCDC) and August (DNE). We part ways with the knowledge that once my references check out (thank you Debbie!) and a conversation with the company, an interview will be forthcoming.

The call came to set up the interview, and with that call came the terror of dressing for a real interview. Work Place Group said, "dress business professional. A suit would be great." Um, people you have clearly not seen my closet. I have some things that pass well enough for some interviews but nothing that would really make it at that level. Hell I don't own any tailored pants! When TGF came home she kindly and patiently took me by the hand, led me upstairs to her closet. Aside from finding something quickly that would pass for "business professional" the best part was fitting into her pants - a size 10! Okay she burst my bubble a bit saying that this brand runs large as the size 12 (she just bought these) swam on her. But still, it delighted me.

Friday morning I took her to work, came home fluffed about just a tiny bit and changed into her clothes, heading out in plenty of time for my 10am interview. The place is close by, I could walk or bike to work if I wanted (1.2 miles away). The guy I met with was quite pleasant and it went really well. I definitely gave "good interview" that morning. So now I wait and see if I get an offer, which if I do leaves me in a bit of a pickle regarding my other commitments versus regular work. I am keeping my other commitments, clearly, but damn it would be nice to make some good money for awhile. However I am so not ready for the regular work force, I nearly passed out when he told me I would get 1 week vacation the first year, 2 the second and 3 after 5 years. 5 years? I have never worked 5 years straight anywhere. Okay I have been doing DNE for 8 years but it's not a forty-hours a week job, every frigging week. Being self employed for the last 11 years has totally spoiled me.

All of this has inspired me to get off my butt, work on a webpage and offer postpartum doula services (probably with some other "name") locally so I can work when I want or need to, and take vacations when I want to, when I can, and not be at the mercy of "permission". {shudder} Being an adult, well, it's not for me sometimes.