So I went to my job interview today. It was for an indeterminate position at a karate school: either receptionist or teacher, depending on who they decided on. They currently have a receptionist, but everyone floats there, and everyone must take lessons.
How cool is that?
Also they want someone able to get a CDL within the next few months. To drive their bus. It’s like every time I look for a job, I end up kicking myself for not agreeing to drive the bus for the blood center and letting them pay for my training and CDL ten years ago.
Also, it’s not a real karate teacher they need, more like a babysitter to do karate-themed stuff with the three to five year olds, so I’m apparently qualified enough for that, having been a Sunday school teacher once upon forever ago.
I interviewed with three instructors, and we got on really well, and it sounds like a lot of fun and a completely new experience, which is exactly what I’m looking for. Fingers crossed!
And next week I have two more interviews.
One at Torrid, and I’m perfectly cool working there, but that’s third on my list.
Then tonight I got a call from Johnny’s Pizza, just not the one I can practically hit with a rock from our back porch. It is, however, one in a part of town that I delivered in for years and years, with no new development since I worked there, so just a day or two and I’d be completely refreshed on the delivery area. Interview there Monday, and I’m sure I’ll be offered a job, maybe even a can you start now, depending on how shorthanded they are.
Buuut will I hear back from the karate school before I hear back from Johnny’s? Because with the karate schedule I wouldn’t be able to do both; it overlaps from lunch to dinner.
Oh, decisions, decisions. I think I’ll just put it out of my head, because there’s no sense counting my chickens before they hatch.
It’s just funny that I hear nothing for three weeks, and then I have three callbacks within two days at places I’ve only just put in applications.
This picture is completely unrelated, but I like it.
Tomorrow at a karate school about a mile from home. Wish me luck!
No call today. I’ll call him tomorrow.
Alum crystals are a scam. Don’t bother.
We tried borax crystals today. They made crystals, but not the big ones we were led to believe we’d see. Also they’re crystallized to the tubs we made them in. Tomorrow we’ll figure out how to remove them without breaking them to pieces.
Today was a good day.
I’ve been having unpleasant and vivid dreams every night.
It all started three weeks ago when I went to the doctor for a followup appointment. He said my cholesterol is high normal, most likely due to genetics and not my diet (thanks for that boost, man), and started me on a low dose of Lipitor. Three days later, I was wondering if that was the cause of my crazy ass dreams and googled it–yup, that can sure happen.
I also learned that Lipitor can increase your risk of diabetes. Thanks, doc, like I don’t already have enough strikes against me. So I stopped taking it. But the dreams haven’t stopped. Last night was the worst one yet, involving burnt pieces of people, mostly children.
But it was just a dream, so I’m okay.
I had to wake up early to wake my husband up so he could take his dad to the doctor, but I went back to sleep, so there’s that.
I woke up half an hour later because my mother’s home health nurse showed up. My mother had a knee replacement done last week. That is a whole ‘nother story, my friends. But whatever, I went back to sleep for another little bit.
I finally got up and took a shower and figured out what to wear to my interview, and my husband still wasn’t home. Eventually he made it, bringing his brother for a haircut. He shaved his brother’s head, which was interesting, as I’ve always known him to have long hair.
Then he brought his brother home and dropped me off for my interview. He let me out at the employee entrance, and one of my friends from housekeeping was taking a load of trash out. He was happy to see me, and asked if I was working there again. I told him no, that I was just coming for an interview, and he wished me good luck. I stopped by and said hi to my old assistant manager, who wished me luck, and headed to my interview.
I went into the store and said hi, I’m here to interview with Mr Manager at 230. The girl at the counter raised her eyebrow and said no, you’re here for an interview with me. She seemed mighty offended that I assumed that since Mr Manager asked me to come for an interview with him at 230 that I would be interviewing with him. Jeez, I’m such an idiot.
She told me I would have to wait. Okay, no big deal. I moseyed around and looked at body jewelry for ten minutes while she sassed a customer, wandered to the office, wandered back out, rang up the customer that she’d sassed, rolled her eyes at a coworker’s question, kicked a backpack around behind the cash wrap, and flipped pages on a clipboard.
When she’d made me wait long enough for offending her, she simply walked toward the front of the store without saying a word to me. Her coworker told me she’s ready for you now. All three of us stood at the lease line, me quite awkwardly witnessing my interviewer berate her coworker for bringing some jewelry with her to ask another question.
We sat at a table behind the closed gelato stand to talk. First she handed me a copy of my application and asked me to make sure all of the information was correct. I looked it over and told her that the only change was that I was no longer employed, but since I’d already put that I could start immediately, that didn’t affect anything else on the application.
I also explained that while I’d answered the question about how many jobs I’d had in the past two years with the number three, they were simultaneous jobs, and that I’d maintained steady employment with my most recent employer for the past four and a half years, the first three and a half with a second job. She reassured me that was fine, even thought there was no place on the application to explain that.
No small talk, just four pages of pre-supplied interview questions including when was the last time you shopped with us and what were you shopping for, tell me about a time when you received bad guest service, and who was the best manager you’ve ever had and what did you learn from them. She didn’t care about my answers, but at least she took notes.
When she was done she told me that she would speak with Mr Manager tomorrow and he would give me a call to let me know their decision. I think she was upset that I wasn’t solemn enough about the whole situation, which is funny because the company’s slogan is life’s a party, we’re making it fun.
But I’ll find something out tomorrow. Probably.
My husband picked me back up at the employee entrance. We dropped off his dad’s prescription and went to the hardware store for some supplies to use in our crystal-making endeavor that we had planned for this evening. That, my friends, is yet another story, which you may possibly read about tomorrow when I have the final results.
We went to Walk-On’s for dinner and then hit Target up for two whole hours of date night fun. I got three new books, and here is a picture of them, a la Stephanie at AoaB.
And I totes forgot to take a picture of my new chair for you. It does, however, look very similar to this one, with a little added bird poop:
Anyway, wish me luck for tomorrow!
- See that camera bubble? Top left? It’s fake af. The previous store manager put them up to trick her assistant manager (the current store manager) into working. Didn’t work.
- I had the worst customer tonight. Came to pick up her order. The manager sold her a birthstone with the wrong kind of bracelet: the birthstone charms don’t open up, just the birthstone bracelets. This is why we don’t sell them with other bracelets. But whatevs. I can get the pliers and throw it on. But I can’t find the pliers. There’s no small pliers anywhere. Neither the manager nor the assistant manager will answer their phone. Customer is screaming at me because somebody else screwed her. Doesn’t want the five bucks back for the birthstone. Wants me to somehow pry this bracelet open with my fingers and magically attach it. Fuck that lady. I ended up writing my name, the manager’s name, and the order number (so they could see that she didn’t buy a birthstone bracelet) on a business card for her to call and complain about us. I don’t care, lady. You’re an entitled bitch.
- The manager finally called me back after Ms Entitlement left. Her plan is to call and apologize and find some fucking pliers. No sorry you had to deal with the consequences of my disregard of company policy. Just I’m gonna kiss that lady’s butt for a five dollar sale.
- On Monday I had a customer pissed because the frame she ordered in November that was on backorder hadn’t shown up yet. She just wanted someone to be mad at.
- I don’t know why I expected any better. I fielded enough complaints about this store’s customer service when I worked at my store; customers probably go there expecting to get fucked. I got news for them. If they want to be assholes to someone they’ve never met before who didn’t have anything to do with their order, they can get fucked.
- Job hunt starts tomorrow.