Grim and grimmer
So I went for a major job interview last Friday and the more I think about it, the more I think I bombed.
Which is common human psychology, according to a kind friend who counselled me about it and advised me to preferably distract myself with Sudoku, a book or a hot guy. Very good advice indeed.
But it doesn’t negate the likelihood that I bombed.
Hence my plotting over the weekend (on holiday in Penang and hence free from connectivity and work) possible alternative careers.
1. Abalone diver. Highly lucrative (I hear) but will probably kill me.
2. Alpine dairy milkmaid. Not new; perhaps a question of accelerating plans e.g. by marrying an alpine dairy farmer.
3. Teacher. Look, I have two degrees, surely I can teach *something*. It’s only a question of whether I should be let near Impressionable Children.
4. Nun. I hear they provide food, in exchange for piety. I may also have to shave my head - I don’t know if that’s still the practice now. So long as I don’t have to be vegetarian (think KFC and steak). Do I? Dang it.
5. Writer. And starve to death.
6. Professional student. Apparently I can go back to school and pass some time studying (and perhaps pulling some shifts at the local coffee shop while drawing down my savings) until someone takes pity on me and gives me another degree and I can try to sell that new degree.
7. Emcee. Erm. Call me. Birthday parties, weddings, whatever. I am (more or less) bilingual and (utterly) shameless. Just feed me.
Someone once offered to link me up with someone in MacDonald’s, to see if he might know the people in KFC and can hook me up with a job there. Possible outcomes: either (A) I climb the corporate KFC ladder and make good my passion for fried chicken or (B) the job kills my obsession with KFC once and for all and I stand a 50% better chance of actually succeeding with Option #4 above. Though with (A), I might get really fat.
Argh f***.
I need a distraction.