[No, this is not the most scintillating of posts. I am a bear of very little brain this afternoon, at least now, probably because great nervousness takes a lot of concentration to hold in check. I was better earlier. I am writing this primarily because I had talked about the interview last night, and in the sheepish hope that people whose information I have lost will spontaneously send it to me without me having to email them. Of course, if I don't email them, how will they know I have lost their information...]
It has been one of those days. At least, up until 3:00.
I discovered that my backpack, which had been in the van, was missing. I can't find it around the house, either. I had been using it in lieu of a purse for a while, since I had books to carry. At this point, there was not anything in it to speak of, except several Games magazines and my card case.
The card case is a real loss. I have cards for a quite a number of people, both professional and personal. When my phone died at the end of last year, I discovered that for some reason the contact information of several of those people (people who mattered) had not been saved. In addition, I had gotten cards from a few people since then; again, people whose contact information (especially phone numbers) I wanted to hang on to. I had been intending to take the cards and transfer them to my new phone, but had been procrastinating doing so. I really regret that now.
Edited to add: Hurrah! Calloo callay! I found the backpack! Tonight's task: transfer contacts into phone and computer address book.
As far as my cards... I have three different cards, a lot of them. One of them my business card, one for jewelry design, and a "blog card." Vistaprint is a lot of fun. (I had also once had a hat with my blog information on it.)
While discovering that it wasn't in the house, I tripped in the garage. In addition to skinning my shins, the trip did my pulled rib no good.
On the other hand, I got a new purse, sort of. It is a tote of one particular design (black, with pockets large enough to hold a collapsing folder) -- I buy them and use them until they fall apart. I got my first one in 2007. This is number three. What makes it special is the hot pink interior.
I do the same with work shoes; this time I actually *gasp* chose a different black flat. This was only because the shoe store was out of my usual design.
But my mock interview went very well. The interviewer thought I was personable, confident (!), and responded well to questions. She particularly liked my answer to "You have a potential client in front of you and the phone starts ringing off the hook. What do you do?" With absolutely no hesitation I replied, "The person in front of you is always the first priority. You hit the button which sends the caller to voicemail."* (I was a little surprised that impressed her; to me, it seems completely obvious.) She said I need to work on my "tell me about yourself" elevator speech, however, and make a few changes to my resume.
So here I am again, in my home-away-from-home, sipping my Grande Peppermint Mocha, treating myself to madeleines and listening to Broadway, watching the rain fall. And writing, even if all I am writing is a silly little synopsis of my day.
Not such a bad day after all.
*This, like all things in life, depends upon context: if you are working a crisis line, it might well be more important to answer the phone.