No wiping butts!
No hefting boxes!
No vinyl gloves!
No pallet jacks!
No red shirts!
None of that! It's an interview for a job fixing complex, precision machines!
I'm just a wee bit excited. Okay: when I heard the message on the answering machine, it was 9:30 PM, and I thought, "Oooh oooh can I call him back now can I can I?" ...but realized that no, the "after nine" rule was in effect, and I'd have to get up in the morning to call then.
Still, I was boiling over with excitement just at the opportunity, and the author of this good fortune had to caution me not to count my chickens; he counseled me just to go interview and do as well as I could.
So I made the return phone call; and it was a nice, positive call. We had an amiable, brief chat, and agreed on an interview time and date.
I got off the phone and quite literally danced a jig.
I know I have to pass the interview and a bunch of other hurdles--the job is not mine until someone says, "You're hired," and we're not at that stage--(yet!)--but just the opportunity to interview for a real full-time job that actually uses my talents and skills is probably the most exciting thing that's happened to me for quite a long time.
...of course, now that the giddiness has worn off, I'm about to collapse into a coma. I didn't sleep last night (again). Well, spending yesterday afternoon asleep probably has a lot to do with that.
The guy I spoke with cautioned me (in a positive way) that "expectations are high" because my stock has been talked up. Well, if I can do only as well as I did with the interview that landed me the job at Target, it'll do.
* * *
I'm usually pretty stoic, and do not usually dance a jig when something good happens. It's rare.
Thinking about it--the last time I actually went slightly nuts at good news was in 1991. I had been doing not-well in Calculus I, and I was worried about failing it, having it pulling down my GPA, and screwing up my class schedule for the rest of my career at school.
I worked, at the time, for Sears Business Centers. It was my first computer technician job, and as I recall I made about $6 an hour at it. Well, owing to the fact that the entire company had been losing money for quite a while, they restructured, and I lost my job. There was some kind of bloodbath and a bunch of us were let go; I recall one coworker gave me an angry, tearful glare as she walked out of the place. (Not angry at me, I don't think; angry that her job was suddenly gone, and trying to send a message to me.)
Anyway, being unemployed left me with more time to study, and I put off looking for work. And when the summer trimester was over, I got my grades in the mail...and saw that I had turned my very low "D" in Calculus into an "A".
I scared the cat. I ran through the house hooting and hollering and waving my report card, and the cat ran away from me until she could run no farther, and did the cornered cat cower by the coffee table in the living room, tail fat, because it was bloody obvious that I'd turned into a raving lunatic.
I did apologize to the cat, later.
(I was kind of hoping for the same effect this time, but my cats know I'm crazy, so they just looked at me as if to say, "Okay, are you going to feed us now?")