Bad Date…

Graduating college has been something I have been anticipating since I started school. I keep envisioning myself wearing the cap, and seeing my family’s proud expressions. I NEVER thought it would take this much darn work though and that I would be this exhausted after two years.

I have also anticipated finding a great job, wearing my high heels and cute pencil skirts that I could now afford, you know, now that I am a big shot career woman. At some point I decided I wanted to work for the DA, which I have already submitted my exam request for and should hear back from in September. In the mean time, I am applying and interviewing with State jobs, thinking maybe I will find somewhere there that I could be happy, moving my way up the chain of command slowly.

When I whined to my Mom that my current job was literally making me sick with stress and maybe I am a bad interviewer, because the other two jobs still haven’t called me back, she compared my situation to a bad blind date. You know what folks; she has a good point here.


First there is the night before, I spend frantically staring into my closet, wondering if I need a suit jacket, deciding I probably do and hanging it on the hook. Looking at my slacks trying to figure out which ones are too worn to wear (because this girl hasn’t been able to afford new slacks in awhile) and fantasizing about all the nice clothes I could buy off of the salary they are offering. Deciding on my newer ones that seriously need to be hemmed and toss my high high heels that are slightly hard to walk in for good measure, maybe they won’t notice that my pants are too long. Then comes the next morning, where I am frantically trying to convince my unruly curls to cooperate, slap on tons of cover up and paint on the most professional face of make-up I can muster, trying all the while to NOT poke myself in the eye. AND of course I use the fancy $75 perfume I splurged on a couple Christmas’s ago that makes me cheeks turn bright red and my nose itch.

I avoid the animals, while they sense I want to look nice and try to rub all over me. I finally book it out of the house, in full panic mode, sweating and cursing about feeling like a trussed up turkey.

As I pull in there is the awkward, who pays for parking dance. Do I, do they? Please tell me I brought quarters damn it. There is the waiting, where each person you see makes you sit up straighter and suck in your belly in hopes that they will walk your direction. My fingers itch to start playing Angry Birds on my phone, as 5 then 10 then 20 minutes ticks by. AND finally someone comes and gets you. I paint on my best smile and prepare myself for the walk up on high heels that are already causing blisters.

Then I walk into a room of three people. Three intimidating people with tight smiles and pieces of paper, I had a nightmare like this once. I shake hands, wondering if I am shaking with the right pressure. I make sure I meet each one of their eyes, vowing to remember their names and then forgetting the second I sit down. Do I cross my legs? Do I sit with my legs to the side? Does it matter? I nod and listen to their story, the who, what, when and where’s because let’s be honest, everyone loves chatting about themselves. I try to keep a neutral but interested look on my face. I try to nod in all the right places and probably end up looking like a cross between a nervous Yorkie and a bobble head. I try to read the piece of paper they handed me to read, but they won’t stop talking for 2 seconds to let me.

Then comes answering the questions, fired at me from all sides, I start cringing and before you know it I start second guessing myself over and over again. I stumble on answers that I never stumbled on before. I forget my carefully planned out responses to questions. I start wondering if I am sweating. OMGosh did I remember deodorant? 

As I walk out, I at least remember to grab a card so I can send a hand written thank you card. Which takes me a good 45 minutes to write four sentences. How do you sound casual, thankful and interested all at the same time in a short thank you card? Do you choose the one’s with flowers or cute puppies? Red pen for fun or a no nonsense black pen?

I spend days, weeks, going over and over again what I said, I question each time I said something and if I smiled in the right places. Did they like me?

Then comes the wait. I find little ways of bringing it up in conversations with my friends/family. I analyze the whole conversation in my head over and over again. I jump each time my phone rings and curse at it when it is someone else. I check my phone 200 times a day, draining the battery way too fast. I start feeling rejected after a week and desperate by the second week. I call, leave a message, hope that they received my thank you card. I resist the urge to call again. By week three I have completely realized they aren’t calling and start to feel horrible about myself all over again. I resist the urge to call again. I get tempted to tear up that business card. I decide that would be a bad idea and still hold unto hope that it is them each time my phone rings. I eat lots of chocolate.

It turns out, when you are ready and confident to start a new relationship, with a good career, it doesn’t mean that the good career will show up right away. To be honest with you, the waiting sucks more than anything else! Bad date is a 100% accurate description!

Have any bad dates recently?

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