All Things Profane and Sacred

I had a horrifying interviewing nightmare last night. I dreamed that I went through a harrowing, but normal interview. I got a call for a second interview, and set up the time and whatnot with "Peter" (who suspiciously has the same name as this guy I interviewed with a while back who didn't give me my dream job, but, well) in Salem. I was in my bedroom with J, packing up stuff, getting ready, and smoking pot. Then there was a knock on the bedroom door. It was the interviewer, and a gaggle of office folk. He said he was just in the neighborhood and wanted to check in with me and make sure I was going to make the second interview. After they left, I turned to J and wailed, "This room reeks of pot!"

So, I drove to Salem (with J in tow for some reason) and got there early enough to see this well dressed WASP walk into the building with the interviewer. I looked down and realized that I was wearing a tee-shirt (Question Authority) and a flouncy gypsy skirt. I started freaking out-J was trying to calm me down. Then a couple of friends (thanks V and B!) showed up, and gave me their clothes. It wasn't a suit, but it was at least better than what I was wearing.

Anyhow, there was more to the dream, but that moment really stands out in my mind. Standing there and watching the well dressed and proper young man causually saunter in to the interview, while realizing that I was hopelessly out of place and out of my depth.