Now, everyone please be a love and cross your fingers. Cross them well, cross them often and with good wishes, please, please, please.
I'll be busy between the hours of 10 and 12 trying to prove to some people how amazing I am. This will be interesting, because, REALLY? I'm not that amazing (who is when you're 24?), I am just a desperate, desperate woman with a particularly interesting thing going on.
But you know what doesn't hurt amazing-ness? Some really hot shoes, some lipstick (!), and about 3 - 5 good questions (they love it when the prospective peoples ask questions! and lots of 'em.)
The suit is fabreezed (the poor woman's dry cleaning) and ready to be ironed. Perfunctory DC-suit pearl accessories have been selected. I have an eyecatching bag with some detailed notes and said important questions.
I have made the rounds of lies to say I had a doctor's appointment, which I hope does not choose to bite me in the ass. I actually feel bad about lying.
That's a total lie, actually. I feel bad about being sneaky because I totally suck at being sneaky. I was that child with a fistfull of cookies who jammed them into her mouth when she saw a parental unit, and then vehemently denied that cookies existed, my mouth was full, or that my ears were burning from the heat of the devil rising up from hell to take my 5-year-old-soul back down with him, because isn't that what I learned in Catholic school?
An intense fear of the devil and of hell I think is what drove me to behave as well as I did as a kid. I remember being in second grade, sitting in my plaid skirt, pigtails perfectly braided, hands folded while the teacher was talking. A particularly unruly boy asked me why I was so f---ing good all the time, and I just angelically lifted my finger to my lips and shushed him with the grace of a saint. Clearly, the F-word didn't exist yet in my little world and fast forward to 24 and I have been proudly kilt free since the age of 11(britney spears and naughty-catholic school girl Halloween costumes in poor taste included.)
Things are hard now that I ruined my run as being perfect, which had a good long life of about ages 6 - 9. I am freaking out that I might say "balls!" if I drop a pen, or swear absentmindedly to myself while filling out paperwork. I have done my homework, and now all I can do is get some beauty sleep, and hope for the best. Oh, and GET THERE, could that be ANY more difficult? For serious. Thanks public transportation. I'm just hoping that this goes so well that it's the last I mention of occupational hazards of boredom, because I'll be doing something awesome. Also, it would be particularly nice to NOT WRITE ABOUT WORK ON THE INTERNET.