So this is way overdue, but after reading my friend Molly's blog about her interview mishaps, I realized I had to share mine.
Let's rewind to 2 weeks ago. It was Tuesday, May 24. I had a second interview for my current employer. I couldn't decide if I wanted to drive downtown, or take the train as I had previously for my first interview. I decided on the drive, since I was going to a Cubs game later that night with my friend. I decided to park on his street and then take the L into the city, that would drop me off a block from the office. Perfect!
I left 2 1/2 hours early, just to be on the safe side. As many as you may or may not know, I have some of the worst luck of ALL time. When I want things to go my way, they never seem to do so. And of course, I was expecting leaving 2 1/2 hours early was plenty enough time, when I could realistically make it downtown in a half hour without traffic. Well, there was traffic. Not much, but still put me back at least 15 minutes. Great....
The plot thickens. My friend had told me I would have no problem finding free parking on his street. This is a lie. I finally found his new apartment and began looking for spots I could squeeze my '01 Oldsmobile Intrigue in (which, by the way, is my dad's old car). It has a dent on the front right side - not from me, because I've never gotten into an accident, nor gotten a ticket - he got it from hitting a snow bank. And he calls himself a retired police officer.
Anyways, parking was impossible. There were a few maybes, but they happened to be spots in between 2 different cars and I was not about to parallel park on a one-way street with cars driving behind me. Needless to say, I don't think I've even parallel parked correctly since my driving test when I was 16. I kept circling blocks (which all happen to be one way streets - even better!) and finally got out to just pay for parking. Instead of being a normal person and getting out the driver's side, I decided to climb over and get out the passenger side. Little did I know my little black blazer fell out (never saw it) and I realized parking was only for 2 hours. That wouldn't work. By this time, it was 3:15. Yeah, totally wasted an hour and 15 minutes. I got back in my car and drove off.
I FINALLY found a spot I could park into on my friend's street, smack dab in front of his apartment. YES! Now all I had to do was just find the L station. I looked on Google Maps and reached to grab my things. I realized my blazer is nowhere to be found. You have got to be kidding me...
Yep. It had fallen out and I drove away with it helplessly laying on the filthy curb. So, after the success of finding a spot, I reluctantly gave it up and sped heedlessly through town to (hopefully) collect my blazer. What do you know, it's nowhere to be found. I could NOT go into an interview with a sleeveless shirt. I got out of my car (the driver's side this time) and like a crazy person, asked the man in the car in front of me if he's seen my poor blazer. He said yes and pulled it out of his van (which looks similar to those creepy, windowless vans). Um, okay? I wondered what he was going to do with it. Give it to his wife? Donate it? Keep it for himself? Whatever.
I sped, once again, back to the street I had parked on before, praying to God that the spot I had was still there. And it was! THANK GOD. I then began running to the L station. Once I got there, I had to wait 10 minutes for the L to actually show up. It was now 4:05.
Needless to say, I didn't get to the office until 4:40 - 10 minutes late. I thought to myself, I'm done for. Absolutely done for. I left the interview thinking I was going to get a reject letter.
But then the news came the very next day. I got it!
Moral of the story - crappy things may happen to us and delay us, but sometimes, life has a funny way of working itself out. And I'm so glad it did. Guess I need a little bad luck to get some great luck.
On another note, I happened to lose my sunglasses and my ring today.
With craziness and luck,
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
An Unexpected Surprise
Today was a beautiful day - a little chillier than usual - but nevertheless, a beautiful day.
And I didn't really take the time to get outside and enjoy it. I've been wallowing in self-pity for reasons that will go unmentioned. I tossed and turned all last night, dreaming about things I wish I didn't dream about. Anyways, I napped today, trying to make up for the lost sleep from last night. I then visited my grandma at the nursing home, which in itself is downright depressing. To see my grandma at 96 years old, her memory completely erased, and unable to barely feed herself pains me to my inner core. I didn't feel like myself today.
When I got home, my dad went out to the mailbox to get today's mail (that by the way, came extremely more late than usual). He came to my room - "Mail Delivery!" as he said. He handed me two envelopes. One of which was graduation pictures that I could honestly care less about. I have enough of those already. But the second envelope was addressed to me, with no return address. I figured it was a neighbor sending some money for graduation. That would have been nice. But it was better.
As I opened the envelope, I knew exactly what it was. It was the letter I had written myself four years ago in my British Literature class when I was a senior in high school. At the time, my teacher (who was actually student teaching at the time) told us on the last day of high school to get out a piece of paper out and a pen. I was confused. This better not be a last minute quiz, I thought. No. It wasn't. She told us to write a letter to our future selves. She promised to send them to us four years later when we were seniors in college.
Over the past four years, I've wondered about that letter. What did I write? Would I ever see that letter again? I honestly thought the letter was long gone. After all, how would a twenty-something remember to send 25 students letters four years later? She proved me wrong.
I anxiously unfolded my letter and began reading. It's amazing to see how much I've changed, but also stayed the same. I first go over my high school accomplishments - playing basketball and running track, taking AP classes (none of which I got credit for..lame), being in NHS and Students of Service and Teen Court, as well as holding four different jobs.
I then talk about the meaning of love. How I found love in high school and how I got hurt and suffered a major heartbreak. In my letter, I say that I hope I found someone who treats me right and that I'm happy with. I've had my fair share of great guys I've dated over the years, so I think that part applies to each of them.
My goals are the next part I mention. Ever since I was little, I thought I was going to be a writer. As a senior in high school, I aimed to be a famous journalist working at a newspaper, or a magazine, or as a news reporter for a television station. Funny how that completely changed. I quickly learned journalism was not for me, and I have found what makes me happy. Advertising. I am so excited to embark on my new journey working at a big-time media agency downtown.
My family and friends were the most important thing to me at the time. And they still remain that to me today. Many of the friends I listed in my letter are ones I continue to consider my best friends. I know that will never change. Those I lost contact with, I know it's meant to be. Because throughout college, I met some of the best friends I have ever had that I will continue to cherish the rest of my life.
Lastly, I talk about my journey to college. I tell myself to have fun because I'm too hard on myself a lot of the times. I can tell in my letter that I'm scared to start a new chapter with college, but I'm even more excited. I tell myself that I hope I've graduated college, am beginning my career, and thinking about a family. Uh...that all sounds great, minus the whole family part. Gotta find the man first!
Anyways, as corny as it is, I got tears after reading the letter. After the miserable day I had, this was just the thing I needed to make me feel better. After reading everything I had to say as an 18 year old senior, I know that as a 22 year old, I've accomplished much of what I wanted to four years ago. I still want to travel and see the world, but I know the time will come for that.
The teacher gave us the option to write another letter and she will send it to us in four more years. I didn't even have to think about it. I'm going to do it. And I offer a proposition for all you readers out there - think about writing yourself a letter. Hide it from yourself in a place you won't find it or look for it for a few years. You would be amazed how much you will have changed and blossomed when the time comes for you to find that letter.
With letters and the future,
And I didn't really take the time to get outside and enjoy it. I've been wallowing in self-pity for reasons that will go unmentioned. I tossed and turned all last night, dreaming about things I wish I didn't dream about. Anyways, I napped today, trying to make up for the lost sleep from last night. I then visited my grandma at the nursing home, which in itself is downright depressing. To see my grandma at 96 years old, her memory completely erased, and unable to barely feed herself pains me to my inner core. I didn't feel like myself today.
When I got home, my dad went out to the mailbox to get today's mail (that by the way, came extremely more late than usual). He came to my room - "Mail Delivery!" as he said. He handed me two envelopes. One of which was graduation pictures that I could honestly care less about. I have enough of those already. But the second envelope was addressed to me, with no return address. I figured it was a neighbor sending some money for graduation. That would have been nice. But it was better.
As I opened the envelope, I knew exactly what it was. It was the letter I had written myself four years ago in my British Literature class when I was a senior in high school. At the time, my teacher (who was actually student teaching at the time) told us on the last day of high school to get out a piece of paper out and a pen. I was confused. This better not be a last minute quiz, I thought. No. It wasn't. She told us to write a letter to our future selves. She promised to send them to us four years later when we were seniors in college.
Over the past four years, I've wondered about that letter. What did I write? Would I ever see that letter again? I honestly thought the letter was long gone. After all, how would a twenty-something remember to send 25 students letters four years later? She proved me wrong.
I anxiously unfolded my letter and began reading. It's amazing to see how much I've changed, but also stayed the same. I first go over my high school accomplishments - playing basketball and running track, taking AP classes (none of which I got credit for..lame), being in NHS and Students of Service and Teen Court, as well as holding four different jobs.
I then talk about the meaning of love. How I found love in high school and how I got hurt and suffered a major heartbreak. In my letter, I say that I hope I found someone who treats me right and that I'm happy with. I've had my fair share of great guys I've dated over the years, so I think that part applies to each of them.
My goals are the next part I mention. Ever since I was little, I thought I was going to be a writer. As a senior in high school, I aimed to be a famous journalist working at a newspaper, or a magazine, or as a news reporter for a television station. Funny how that completely changed. I quickly learned journalism was not for me, and I have found what makes me happy. Advertising. I am so excited to embark on my new journey working at a big-time media agency downtown.
My family and friends were the most important thing to me at the time. And they still remain that to me today. Many of the friends I listed in my letter are ones I continue to consider my best friends. I know that will never change. Those I lost contact with, I know it's meant to be. Because throughout college, I met some of the best friends I have ever had that I will continue to cherish the rest of my life.
Lastly, I talk about my journey to college. I tell myself to have fun because I'm too hard on myself a lot of the times. I can tell in my letter that I'm scared to start a new chapter with college, but I'm even more excited. I tell myself that I hope I've graduated college, am beginning my career, and thinking about a family. Uh...that all sounds great, minus the whole family part. Gotta find the man first!
Anyways, as corny as it is, I got tears after reading the letter. After the miserable day I had, this was just the thing I needed to make me feel better. After reading everything I had to say as an 18 year old senior, I know that as a 22 year old, I've accomplished much of what I wanted to four years ago. I still want to travel and see the world, but I know the time will come for that.
The teacher gave us the option to write another letter and she will send it to us in four more years. I didn't even have to think about it. I'm going to do it. And I offer a proposition for all you readers out there - think about writing yourself a letter. Hide it from yourself in a place you won't find it or look for it for a few years. You would be amazed how much you will have changed and blossomed when the time comes for you to find that letter.
With letters and the future,
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