brit-sit

I had no Brit-sitter this week. 

Which is good, because I've been very busy working two jobs.

And which is bad because I've spent an unhealthy amount of time talking to my cats and growing extremely accustomed to their strange behavior. Trying to climb on my back while I'm sitting upright and typing, trying to climb on my lap while I'm using the.... ahem ladies room, eating a cardboard box for the hell of it, punching me in the face in the morning because they are channeling Mike Tyson, and general clingy-ness, snoring like dogs, purring all.the.time., and yip-yapping are 100% normal to me now. Sure, it was upwards of 86% normal to me before, but those monsters really beefed up their crazy and are dedicated to making me feel like a spazzy old cat lady..... and it's working.

No Brit-sitter is also bad because there is no one to stop me from having a package of bacon, 2 apples, miscellaneous Halloween candy, and a hefty portion of wine for dinner. I'm thinking Ben would not be too happy with me, since he has vocalized concerns over my odds of making it to 30............but I can rationalize just about anything. Take the above mentioned fantastic dinner for example: Meat, good. Period. Apples=fruit=good. Candy=chocolate=derived from a plant=plants=good. Wine=grapes=fruit with antioxidants=good. Throw "antioxidants" into any food-related nonsense sentence and it's like a free pass. 

Ya know what, I did have a Brit-sitter tonight by the name of Marshall's Store. Which means someone has a new pair of boots, among other things.

Ya win some and ya lose some. 

Ben's home tomorrow, and done traveling until February or something like that. Whoot whoooooot

xoxo, b

worst interview ever

Looking for a new job sucks. Plain and simple. 

Or if you prefer the more vivid and realistic, possibly over-dramatic and lengthy version: Job hunting is intimidating, horrifying, awkward and irritating. You list all your qualifying credentials on one fancy sheet of paper, shave your legs, slide into your pencil skirt and fake smile your ass off. Instead of doing what your mom has prompted you to do all your life-- listen, ask questions about the other person-- you are now forced to not only toot your own horn, but lay on that [explicit] horn while you steer the conversation like a mad-man through your lifetime accomplishments, volunteer opportunities, and a moving, memorized speech detailing why you would be a perfect fit above all the other suckers who also applied. 

During my recent new job quest, I've had an interview or two. Some have been good. Some have been "meh." One was so bad I thought I was being pranked.

Not to give away too many details, but I was able to get my resume forwarded to "Talent Acquisition" at a pretty big company headquartered in MKE through a couple of individuals that Ben and I know. One of these individuals happens to be the head of one giant portion of this company. Vague enough?

Anyways, interview bullet points:

• He was 20 minutes late.
• I was asked what I've done in the past. I told him my previous experience and education. He told me I really don't have any options unless I go back to school. So much for that private education and a B.A.
• He asked me if I was currently in any networking groups. I answered "no" since my days off have thus far been a random weekday here or there, and I don't get back downtown (home) until at least 8pm on days I work. He replied by telling me that most groups meet at night. Like after 8pm dude? Then he decided to list off networking groups and ask if I was a part of them... one by one. No need to break it down for me, I have not joined a group within the last 12 seconds.
• He asked me if I heard of "a little company called Kohls." And proceeded to ask if maybe I've applied there yet. Because I should, but not before going back to school. 
• He told me to really figure out my 5 year plan. If I was planning on staying home and having children within 2-3 years, then I should probably stay in my current position. 
• A great deal of time was spent talking about his accomplishments. He is really good at his job. He recently hired one of the smartest graduates from Marquette. He is well-off. 
• He told me that I probably think this interview didn't go too well but that I was going to "look back on his advice and think..... 'wow.'" I was already thinking "wow" 2 minutes into that interview train wreck.
• There was more, but in conclusion, I spent a half hour or so talking to the most egotistical, chauvinistic man in MKE. I should be barefoot and pregnant because my true career is birthing the next generation, and he is well-off and established because he is man. 

Life goes on. And I've landed a job at a newspaper! I'm starting part time Monday, and by December it'll be my full time position. No more working weekends, no more retail hours, no more bridezillas.

Three workdays left at the jewelry store..... holy moly.

xoxo, b

sushi

There's sushi on my counter, rice coated little packages of joy shooting me shy glances from across the room. I have to wait for Ben to get home, since he is the responsible adult who brought home the sushi for dinner and then braved the elements (hello snow?!) to go work on his fitness and overall well-being while I finished up the retail-hour workday.


I'll just have a glass of wine to pass the time. I like wine.

But I really like sushi.................


Why do those tasty little nuggets have to sit on the counter in plain sight, taunting me with their perfect bite sized combination of veggies and raw fish or whatever the hell is rolled into the magical concoction that is begging to be tenderly dipped into the warm brown soy sauce...........


Just have more wine, woman. You may have wine. Sushi has to wait.......

Wine. Wine. Wine bottle. Beer bottle. Brewery. Brewery tour. Odd tourists on a brewery tour. Some guy with a goatee wearing a tropical shirt with a collar and the three top buttons undone because he likes to strut his stuff.


Where the heck is Benjamin. Also, how could my wine glass be empty.


I'm going in. Self-restraint is lame.


xoxo, b