Happy Fucking Sunday. Today is going to be better than yesterday. The wind died down at some point overnight, after taking down a some of Mom‘s spinny yard shit. However, the rain has completely moved out and the skies are clear. Consequently, a load of laundry is already on its way to a spin cycle.
My interview didn’t happen. I had looked up the name of the person I was supposed to “meet”. He’s the manager at the actual dispo in town, which made me feel a little optimistic. Someone was giving me a chance.
The best light would be in front of my bedroom window. I made a mess out of my bed building a backdrop behind me so I had one solid color. The backdrop consisted of a quilt, three pillows, a laundry bag, and a contact staff. I put a canvas bag on the floor to sit on because the floor is tile and tile is cold in March. My phone was on my tripod, which was on a cat crate; the laptop beside it with my resume up for a cheat-sheet. I had everything all set up for the 10:30am meeting, and logged into it five minutes early.
Then I waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
The meeting was “scheduled” to run 30 minutes. I stuck around for the full time, and then some, just in case.
I closed the meeting window. Then I logged back in.
Just in case.
Nope. Nothing. The general manager didn’t show. I tried to call the company’s “success line” that had been included in the meeting invite, but corporate headquarters isn’t open on weekends. I won’t blow smoke up your asses, gentle reader, I was a little annoyed. At the same time, I know this wasn’t my fault. I was there, and I was ready. This doesn’t reflect on me.
Instead, I was able to reschedule for this afternoon.
I’m proactive as fuck.
Give me this job.
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