So as it turns out, Overpacked may just be on her way to being paid.
Yes you did just read that right.
And yes, I am well aware that I sound like a pretentious twat when I refer to myself in the third person.
Not overpaid mind you, which is what I actually want…just nicely minimum waged up.
I’m actually a little bit chuffed…I thought I’d absolutely cocked up the interview.
In the first place I forgot that I even had it at all.
You know that memory wipe phenomenon you get when walking through doorways…yeah…well I had that in reverse.
There I go lah di dah di dah…walking into the kitchen at half twelve to warm up my soup for lunch then…
Brain presents me with *interview at 1*.
23 19, I repeat we have a 23 19.
Monsters Inc. reference….yes?
I of course lose my shit and run flailing out the front door, calling a taxi and then cancelling the taxi when I realise it’s actually going to arrive too late.
I contemplated walking (power walking…running).
Bus it was.
I arrive in the nick of time…but then of course my Google maps decides it’s going to lead me in the completely wrong direction.
YOU HAD ONE JOB.
By the time I’d reached the top end of the high street I realised how hopelessly lost I was, and had to call the interviewer and ask for directions.
Anyways, I must have done something right, in the New Year I should be settling into the position of Customer Service Assistance at a beautiful little high end espresso cafe.
She said they needed smiley people like me at the front of house.
I think she confused “smiley” with manic.
Personally I think I looked a little more like this:
And what do I have to do in that position you ask?
LITERALLY smile and wave boys.
Smile and wave.
…Oh and carry (smash) the crockery.
P.S. Keep your fingers crossed for me will you? Pretty please. Pretty please with a cherry on top?