Planet Alien

"If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you." - Oscar Wilde

Well, I think my interview this morning went pretty well. I didn't make fun of any dead guys on the wall, I didn't imply I used to pilfer money from my old company's funds, and I didn't mention at all that offering me the job would secure an invitation to "a kickass pigroast we have every year." So I guess, in comparison to my previous interviews, it was peachy keen.

But it was sooooo loooooong. I had to interview with 5 different people. So instead of putting me a room with all of them at one time, I instead had to answer the same damn questions over and over and over and over, over the course of 3 hours. By the end, I was tired, starving, and I had to piss like a racehorse.

I did, however, knew this company and I would be a perfect match when Interview #5 walked in wearing cargo shorts and flip-flops. Dude, you and I were cut from the same mold, my friend. And if there is truly a company out there that will let us express ourselves in that way through our extremely casual attire, than I say we go for it!

So now we wait. The HR chick (who I just so happened to spend countless hours drunk with at parties in college) said that they're usually really quick with their turnaround time from the interview to when they decide if they're hiring you or not, so I guess I'll expect info either way sometime next week.

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Dear Steve,

I realize that due to the monthly "visitor" that has unpacked her bags in my uterus, that we haven't had sex in oh, a whopping 3 or 4 days (god forbid). And I also realize that this means you are extremely horny and looking to get some, since I didn't "suck you off" as you requested a few nights ago.

But when you hint around after the kids are sleeping, and I say that I'm totally wiped out from being up really late last night putting together my writing samples for the interview, and I explain that I have a HUGE deadline and a TON of work due by Sunday at midnight, it means that the sex probably won't be mind-blowing. I'll perform my wifely duties and provide a dock for your tuna boat for 10 minutes or so. But if you think I'm going to decorate the dock and throw a huge party because your tuna boat is there, you're sadly mistaken. So next time, please just do what you gotta do and let me get back downstairs where I'm facing work that will take me into the wee hours of the morning. Okay? Cool.

Peace out.
Allison