My kingdom for a... belt
You'd think that I would be learning, as I go along in the interview process. Each new job interview is another opportunity to hone my skills, perfect my schtick, and transform myself into the job candidate of which potential employers dream.
You'd think that, if you'd never met me.
After the shoe fiasco prior to my last interview (where I discovered just moments before leaving that my pretty, pretty shoes didn't actually stay on my feet; minor detail), I figured that I would head off any trouble, today, by laying out my entire outfit the night before. Which I did. I took everything out last night, checked it all over, tried on my shoes, and patted myself on the back. The outfit was superb. Killer black pants. Electric blue french-cuffed blouse. Shoes that fit. Jewelry. Good to go.
So this morning, I putter around, take my shower, and begin to dress. And then I remembered something. I'm an idiot.
No, I didn't remember that I'm an idiot. I remembered that I bought these pants about a year ago. Before my surgery. When I weighed just a little bit more. When my waist was just a wee bit larger.
In short, when the pants fit me. Which now? They do not. Yes, mark the day. It's officially the first time in history when a woman is complaining to you about being too skinny. The pants looked marvelous when I put them on. Until I moved. At which point, they slid down to the top of my bikini panties and threatened to fall off.
And I'm thinking that losing my pants during an interview could be problematic.
Not to be flustered by this small challenge, I set about looking for a belt. Except I don't have a belt. Why don't I have a belt? I don't know. But apparently I don't. At least, I don't have one I could find. Well, hrm. Maybe I can make do, and if I leave my blouse untucked, you won't be able to tell....
Except that the blouse? Didn't fit, either. I have a closet full of stupid clothes, people. My very beautiful blouse was not quite fitted enough to leave untucked, and couldn't be tucked in without a belt given that my pants were plotting an escape.
Now I was starting to panic, a little.
New blouse! Yes! This one could be left untucked. Long enough to cover the pants issue, fitted enough to look professional. A strategically-placed safety pin inside the pants... and... yes. Good. Wait. Now my jewelry is the wrong color. Whose idea was it that women have to coordinate all this crap? Now instead of bold blue with my black pants, I'm wearing tweedy grey, and I look like I might be stopping at a funeral after this. Find jewelry with some color. Okay. Splash of pink, there we go. Fix hair. Apply make-up. Walk slowly, so that my pants stay put.
Yes, that's just how all the books say you should prepare to knock 'em dead at an interview. "Exude confidence! Dress for success! Try to keep your pants on!"
I'm pleased to report that I survived the interview, fully clothed. And I didn't roll my eyes even once, even though I was being asked really deep questions like "Describe your greatest weakness" by an earnest young thing who was probably born when I was in junior high.
But I'll confess... I lied. I said my greatest weakness is that I sometimes lack tact.
Actually my greatest weakness is that I can barely dress myself. But I didn't want to sound too shallow.
