Thursday August 04, 2005

Good day, bad day

Why do the good times never last?

The last few days have been a mix of triumph and frustration for me. The night before my job interview in Atlanta I met up with my old roomie, who's now a Georgia peach herself. We hit Applebees for a late dinner, where she ogled the cute southern waiters, and I giggled whenever our waitress called me hon. Waitresses just don't do that in Cleveland. After some late night chatting, my old roomie took me back to my hotel.

[start good day]

Early the next morning I was picked up by the organization's supervisor, who gave me a tour and took me to lunch. My heart started racing about ten minutes before she arrived (damn that anxiety!) but after she showed up wearing jeans and a ponytail, my pulse returned to normal. We hung out for a few hours and talked a lot about the job. Everything went without a hitch.

When the interview ended, I was left at the hotel where I waited for my Nascar-wannabe-on-speed shuttle driver to escort me to back the airport. The flight home was short and I actually arrived early. It had been a really good day.

[/good day]

[start bad day]

The next morning I got up for work tired as hell after two days of running around, catching flights and yapping non-stop about what a wonderful employee I am. After clocking in, I was greeted with a tidal wave of unfinished work that left me scrambling. I dropped things, broke things, missed things... I became so consumed with getting things done that I clocked out more than 30 minutes late by mistake (which I will be reprimanded for, I'm sure). By the time I left the building, no shuttles were available to pick me up, and I had to walk a mile to my parking lot. Walking a mile isn't hard, unless of course you've been on your feet for 8 straight hours.

Halfway on the drive home I noticed that my gas light was on. I made it to the next exit and coasted into a gas station. After trying two different pumps that read Replace nozzle and see attendant, I realized the gas station was closed. Of all the stations I chose, I had to pick the ONE station in the entire city of Cleveland that closed before 8:00 pm.

Wonderful.

I then had to call my dad to bring his gas cannister and give me a boost. Ten minutes later I watched his car roll past and drive off without me. He returned home convinced that I must have gotten home somehow because he didn't see me. My mom sent him back, and by 8:40 he finally showed up with gas, annoyed that I described the place as a gas station, not a car wash. When I made the point that a gas station with a car wash is still a gas station, he got snippy. Just what I needed.

By the time I got home I was so frustrated that I turned off my cell phone, shut down the computer, and headed for a trusted friend's house. I just needed a place away from home where I could relax, eat some comfort food, and talk to a friend. I fell asleep on her big purple couch while she watched an old episode of Buffy. I slept through the night, feeling better after "getting away" for a while.

[/bad day]

The frustration has yet to completely wear off.

Someday I'm going to have two good days in a row. Until then, I'll have to settle for ice cream and Buffy.