Actually, it did, a little. I don't know if it showed, really. And the thought, unbidden, was "self-actualization, my ass; I'm fighting for my life."
Fortunately, my censor was working, and the words didn't walk straight out of my mouth. That has happened to me in the past, and it didn't end well. At least this time the censor was engaged and I succeeded in not humiliating myself. Always a good thing in a job interview.
It had to have been one of the oddest interviews I've had in a long time. The guy is very clearly right-brained as hell, given to metaphor, and talking the job into existence while I'm sitting in his office. I was not prone to argue with the creation process, but did point out to him that it sounded to me as though he was taking a somewhat amorphous mass and trying to create a workable -- and working -- program out of it.
I left almost as confused as I was when I arrived. I don't know whether or not the job will exist, and I don't know whether or not I'll be offered the job; to further complicate the issue, I don't know if I want the job he described, or the job that his boss described to me. And, worse yet, I'm not sure if they are the same job.
The good news . . . I guess . . . is that the process is helping me further define my criteria for accepting a job. 1. It needs to meet my financial needs; 2. It needs to meet my work-related emotional needs; 3. It needs to offer enough variety that I don't get bored and have to go; 4. I need to have my own defined work space that it is mine, where I can work in peace and quiet; 5. I really need to not work for anyone that is crazier than I am. And of course, whatever it is that I'm doing -- or expected to do -- needs to match my personal mission, vision and values system.
That sounds awfully snotty, taken at face value, I think. And maybe it is. And maybe it's not. For example . . .
I love shoes. I love to buy shoes. I love to have lots of shoes, for variety. I recognized this a long time ago, and started buying shoes at a "big box" store. I was on a budget, they were cheap, and I had a damn lot of shoes. They all hurt my feet. They all hurt my back. But I had a damn lot of shoes and they were cheap. And they wore out quickly, but that was okay because I could buy more varietal shoes that hurt my back and my feet. A damn lot of them.
A friend of mine talked me into trying Keen and Dansko shoes. They were not cheap. They did not hurt my feet. They did not hurt my back. I now have Keen sandals and sneakers and a pair of Keen winter boots. I have Dansko clogs. It's taken a while to buy them, because they're not cheap. I've had my Keen sandals for five years now. When they get dirty, I throw them in the wash and they come out looking brand new. I polish the Dansko clogs periodically, and they look brand new. They do not hurt. They look professional. I do not have a damn lot of them.
So, I guess I can get a "big box" store job. But I'd really rather not.
Whatever job simply needs to pay well enough that my fiber habit isn't compromised. :-D
Fortunately, my censor was working, and the words didn't walk straight out of my mouth. That has happened to me in the past, and it didn't end well. At least this time the censor was engaged and I succeeded in not humiliating myself. Always a good thing in a job interview.
It had to have been one of the oddest interviews I've had in a long time. The guy is very clearly right-brained as hell, given to metaphor, and talking the job into existence while I'm sitting in his office. I was not prone to argue with the creation process, but did point out to him that it sounded to me as though he was taking a somewhat amorphous mass and trying to create a workable -- and working -- program out of it.
I left almost as confused as I was when I arrived. I don't know whether or not the job will exist, and I don't know whether or not I'll be offered the job; to further complicate the issue, I don't know if I want the job he described, or the job that his boss described to me. And, worse yet, I'm not sure if they are the same job.
The good news . . . I guess . . . is that the process is helping me further define my criteria for accepting a job. 1. It needs to meet my financial needs; 2. It needs to meet my work-related emotional needs; 3. It needs to offer enough variety that I don't get bored and have to go; 4. I need to have my own defined work space that it is mine, where I can work in peace and quiet; 5. I really need to not work for anyone that is crazier than I am. And of course, whatever it is that I'm doing -- or expected to do -- needs to match my personal mission, vision and values system.
That sounds awfully snotty, taken at face value, I think. And maybe it is. And maybe it's not. For example . . .
I love shoes. I love to buy shoes. I love to have lots of shoes, for variety. I recognized this a long time ago, and started buying shoes at a "big box" store. I was on a budget, they were cheap, and I had a damn lot of shoes. They all hurt my feet. They all hurt my back. But I had a damn lot of shoes and they were cheap. And they wore out quickly, but that was okay because I could buy more varietal shoes that hurt my back and my feet. A damn lot of them.
A friend of mine talked me into trying Keen and Dansko shoes. They were not cheap. They did not hurt my feet. They did not hurt my back. I now have Keen sandals and sneakers and a pair of Keen winter boots. I have Dansko clogs. It's taken a while to buy them, because they're not cheap. I've had my Keen sandals for five years now. When they get dirty, I throw them in the wash and they come out looking brand new. I polish the Dansko clogs periodically, and they look brand new. They do not hurt. They look professional. I do not have a damn lot of them.
So, I guess I can get a "big box" store job. But I'd really rather not.
Whatever job simply needs to pay well enough that my fiber habit isn't compromised. :-D
No comments:
Post a Comment