Dude, where's my job?

My buh-rain is fried, so pardon me if I make no sense. Between a phoner and two live interviews yesterday, it was no wonder I couldn't sleep the night before. That's in addition to finishing the write-up for that website. If you're nice to me, maybe I'll link it once it's up.

In the middle of all this was a second interview for a job with a pretty well-backed magazine. Note aforementioned lack of sleep, so by the time I got to that interview for the magazine, after everything else, I was a walking zombie. Little did I know I would be in good company.

So this interview is with a man and a woman. The woman seemed nice enough, and more importantly, alert enough. The man, on the other hand, was a different story.

Have you seen this man? 'Cause I know I have.

I've been on many interviews in my time and ohhhh, the stories! But I don't think I've ever been interviewed by a narcoleptic. No, that's just uncharted territory for me, really. The minute he finished asking me his first question, boom - his eyes start drooping shut. I looked at the lady for some sort of acknowledgement, like, "Hey, Sleepy's right here. Where're the rest of the dwarves?" But she was sitting side by side with him and staring expectantly at me, waiting and completely clueless.

So I answer the question, and the one after that and after that too. All the while, I'm watching in fascination as his eyelids flutter up and down, travelling through the Land of Nod. He was like this interactive narcoleptic. Everytime I finished my answer, he woke up again, only to fall asleep again when I started speaking. WONDERSSSS for my confidence, I say!

At the same time, my eyelids were reflexively responding to his, begging to do the same thing, and I had to keep looking away. Let me tell you, I was so jealous of him. I'd have loved nothing more than to put my head down on the table and have us both make music with our snores. I'd be alto and he'd be soprano. I really couldn't take it. So at one point, I did debate actually saying something out loud, maybe asking him if he wanted some of my Bawls.

You know, Bawls - the caffeinated candy. Why? What were you thinking?

Despite my dismay at the whole situation, I plugged on and I rambled a little bit, while wondering to myself if this was a part of the master plan? Some diabolical test? Like, "Let's have a narcoleptic interview her and see what she does!" And if I did the right thing, they'd jump out and yell, "Congratulationsssss, you're hired!"

Well, that didn't happen. No.

What did happen was the lady started looking at me strangely, as she began her turn to ask me questions in what seemed the looooooongest interview of my life. Then as I started getting my groove back, I heard what I could have sworn was a snort. Like a snoring type snort. And I crashed. I just mentally threw in the towel and gave up. I told myself, M, this is not meant to be. The Big Man (meaning G-d, not the narcoleptic) obviously does not want me to have this job.

When it finally ended 45 minutes later, Mr. Narky-poo-poo says, "We'll be in touch. I like what I heard." My head practically spun on my neck 360 degrees, like "Saywhahuhlike...how can you...never mind, how about a big ole SAY WHUH?"

If he had done this, I'd have given him points for trying, then run out of the room.

One day later, I'm still beside myself with, oh I don't know, confusion as to what that whole exercise was all about? Because that was quite possibly the strangest interview I've ever had. Scratch that, it was the strangest interview I've ever had. And because it's not over until it's over, I can't even say who I interviewed with.

But once I'm assured I didn't get the job, and I'm quite sure I won't, I'm posting the name. Because you won't believe it. I know I didn't. Those that know who it was have asked me, "Are you sure it was the same company?" And yes, it was. Mr. Sandman works for a name that prides itself on its go-getting work ethic, ambition, and drive. And he set a lovely example, I tell you.

Watch this space.