The World's Most Hilariously Awful Interview

Mood: distressed

I had an interview today in Salem at the Oregon State Hospital....It didn’t go so great.

I showed up 45 minutes early, and was going to hangout in my car preparing for it. However, I'd had three glasses of water and a soda. I had to pee, and badly. I debated going in that early, but finally settled on driving around to find somewhere else to go.

When I had killed enough time, I decided to go in. The parking lot was behind the building so I had to walk around an entire building. Then I had to ring a doorbell to get let in. After ringing the doorbell, the receptionist just hollered “Come In!” When I signed in she called the woman I needed to meet with. She didn’t answer.

The receptionist than told me, “Maureen is in the middle of something, she’ll be about ten minutes. Feel free to have a seat and wait.” So, I parked it. I pulled out my note pad, and was going to brainstorm some intelligent questions to ask. However, Maureen was there within ten seconds. She took me to a room, and handed me the questions that the panel would be asking me. This is how social services interviews are run. They ask you to show up 15 minutes early, and give you the questions. You can then think about them and develop thoughtful responses. Maureen told me that if I needed her she would be in the room next door.

I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t so hilarious, or awful, just yet. Well, hold on.

I’m reviewing the questions, and the first one is to describe my experience in the mental health field. I have none. So, I’m thinking, “this will be fine.” What they normally do is ask you the questions verbatim. So, I was thinking that they’d ask me and I’d be able to relate to them more personally. Then there were a few questions that involved inside terms. This is terminology that means nothing to me because I don’t work here. I have no idea what “person center plans” or “evidence-based structure as it relates to peer support” are. But I’m thinking, “this is fine, we’ll come to that question, they’ll ask it and I’ll play off their response. I will tell them I’m not sure what they mean, and it’ll be okay.”

While I’m working on these questions, and attempting to calm myself. Something really awkward happened. The woman in the room next door, Maureen, got a phone call. Apparently, the walls there are paper thin. Her conversation seemed fine. She was perfectly polite, and perky. Then the call ended. She hung up the phone, and said (to herself presumably) “fucking stuck up bitch!” Afterward she continued to grumble to herself. There were no other voices. She was definitely talking to herself, and some of the stuff she was saying was not quite right. Along the same lines as the post-call conversation. Needless to say, I was uncomfortable.

A short while later a weirdly dressed woman came in to get me for my interview. She was dressed in a colorful outfit that can only be described as something a high school drama or middle school art teacher might wear (excessively flowy, and with  ample color and decals). She walked me across the hall to an office that looked like the inside of a Native American teepee. Standing at the table were two old men. One looked like he might be a college professor, and the other one was...a cowboy.

THERE WAS AN HONEST TO GOD, OLD MAN, COWBOY THERE!! He had the whole cowboy hat and tight jeans deal get-up. He was wearing a vest with a bunch of pockets all over it. This dude had a bushy beard, and all kinds of things going on. I was completely confused.

I shook all of their hands, but was really confused (by the cowboy) and uncomfortable (because of the woman with tourettes across the hall). When the men shook my hand they said their “Hi Melinda, I’m ___” to which I responded, both times, “Hi, I’m Melinda” as if they didn’t already know my name.
They pulled out my chair for me. When I stood in front of the chair to sit down, they pushed it in, and my foot got hooked around it. So, I got stuck, and went through the interview in an uncomfortable position.
I knew nothing about Oregon State Hospital. When they asked, I requested a brief explanation. They gave it to me. Apparently, at the Salem location, the VAST majority of their patients are either those who “have been deemed not competent to stand trial” or those who have successfully plead the insanity defense. Needless to say, I began the interview completely off guard.

Then they told me that they would like me to run the whole interview myself. I could read the questions out loud, or not, as long as I just let them know which question I was on. Um...what??! I was counting on them reading the questions. This threw me off.

So, I stumbled through it. I asked them what some of the terminology meant, but these people skated around the questions and never really told me what they meant. Also, anytime I showed any humanity, I got NO RESPONSE! I would joke a little, and not get even the slightest smirk. They were entirely stone faced!

To make matters worse, in the middle of my interview, the cowboy’s phone went off. It was set on vibrate, but that did not make it any less noticeable. It was one of those LOUD vibrating things. It was really distracting, especially because he seemed to have forgotten which vest pocket he put it in. He fidgeted around in it for nearly two minutes! I wasn’t sure what to do about it. Originally, I smiled at him in an “oh haha” kind of way, but (as was their style) I got no reaction from him.

At the end of the interview they asked if I had any questions. I have learned that you don’t want to leave without asking some well thought out questions. So, I asked about how they would go about training a person with little to no experience. The old man gave me a very vague and uninformative answer, and then the woman chimed in. She told me about a program at another branch, where you can get experience, and they pay for you to get your Certified Nursing Assistant License. My CNA?! When did I ever express an interest in going in that direction? And, doesn’t it seem like a step back from my bachelor’s degree? Especially when you consider that I don’t want to go into the medical field.

Throughout this whole interview I was screaming inside my own head. I really just wanted to politely excuse myself, and run screaming down the hall! When we were finally done they said “well thank you for coming in and interviewing with us.” Then, they all just sat there at the table. So, I stood up, and asked “should I just walk out the same way I came in.” They then asked me if I came in through the front door...There was only one way in! I had to ring the doorbell.

Finally, I got out of there, and made it out to my car. On my way out of the parking lot I noticed a truck. I thought it was waiting for my spot, but then I saw the truck again as I exited the parking lot. THE COWBOY WAS DRIVING THE TRUCK!! He was behind me all the way out to the freeway!

It wasn't just awkward and uncomfortable! It was a train wreck!
So, can I ask just one question?:
Why the hell was there a Cowboy?!
Okay, two questions actually:
At this place, is it a normal thing to have a coworker mutter obscenities as they work alone?

Working

Mood: mellow

I started a new job yesterday. Yes, ladies and gents, I am now a temp. It’s gloriously boring. I’m working for US Bank. I show up at 5:30am (soooo early). When I get there, they give me some stacks of bills. I then sort through the bills, and organize them into several smaller stacks. Then I bind them with rubber bands, and ask for another stack. It seems that monotony will be my life for the next 5 weeks.
I’m not really sure exactly why the temps need to show up so early. I am actually not really sure why anyone needs to show up that early. Obviously someone somewhere had this idea, but it doesn’t make much sense. I mean, at the LATEST we’ll be done by 4pm. Yesterday I was done at 1pm, and today I was done just after 11am.
I got a letter from Lane County Child Welfare in Eugene yesterday. I called them today, and I have an interview on Friday 10/31. It’s a group interview, and that’s a bit unfortunate. I am not a fan of group interviews.
Well, that’s all for now. I’m gunna go work out.

Mindy the Maladroit

Mood: embarrassed

I looked up a new word. I feel that this one describes me perfectly right now. I’m sort of a bumbling fool at points in my life.

My interview was not the greatest. It wasn’t awful. It definitely could have been worse. But, it was not the best interview that anyone ever had.

They tell you to arrive twenty minutes early so that you can fill out a criminal history form, view the position description, and review the questions. At interviews for Social Services with the DHS they give you the questions ahead of time. You are then given some time to read through them and prepare your answers for the actual interview. It’s rather nice actually. You get to prepare, and you are ready for what they throw at you.

Well, I am chronically early to important things. It’s almost embarrassing how early I am to things like interviews. Normally, I would have shown up about twenty minutes early, but because they told me to be twenty minutes early I showed up about a half hour early.

What’s weird is that they called me in almost right away. I had MAYBE fifteen minutes to prepare. It was actually more like ten minutes. The criminal history form was filled out, but I never got to review the questions. The job description was like 5 pages long. It doesn’t help that I am a slow reader. The interview questions were at the very bottom of the stack, and I never got around to reading them. I was actually on page three of the job description when they called me in.

It was a panel interview, so it was me versus two DHS staff. The room was set up rather awkwardly. It was a round-ish table, and the two women interviewing me were sitting opposite one another. They asked me to have a seat, so I chose the seat between them. It was more like an octagon table, but it was still rather strangely set up.

The two women introduced themselves to me, and then asked me if I would like to just begin answering the questions. This was nerve racking because I hadn’t even seen them yet. But, I took a deep breath and told them that I hadn’t had a chance to review them, and asked if we could go through them together.  They seemed fine with that. So, they began asking the questions, taking turns. I did my best to answer each question honestly and thoroughly.

About five minutes into the interview I realized that we were almost on the last question...What’s that all about? Honestly, the brevity of the interview began to make me nervous. In my experience good interviews last longer than 10 minutes. Usually, if it’s going well it will last about 30 minutes.

It was at this point, nearly half way through the interview that I began to realize that neither woman was really reacting to anything that I had to say. They both fervently took notes, but it seemed as though neither one of them was actually hearing me.

So, about 10 minutes into the interview they asked me if I had any questions for them. I had a few, but I stretched them out to make the interview last longer. When I had asked all of my questions, the interview ended.

As I got up and started to leave the room the woman (who would be my supervisor) said, “So, Go Beavers. I went there too.” Then she indicated my pin and said, “And you were a Chi Omega? I was a tri-delt, all four years.” To which I responded...“Well, that’s okay,” and left the room.

"Well, that’s okay"? REALLY?! I crack myself up, because sometimes shit just comes out of my mouth. It’s almost like I have verbal diarrhea. I just say things, and I have no control over it.

I know that what I meant was something like, “well, we can still be friends.” However, it definitely came out sounded like, “I won’t hold it against you that you were not cool enough to be a Chi Omega like me.” And that’s how I ended the interview.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad interview, but it did not go the way that I had wanted it to. My plan was to walk out of that interview feeling great. Instead, I walked out of that interview feeling like a goob.

I think that they should make a sitcom about me. At times it feels like I am a cross between Elaine Bennis (from Seinfield) and Pheobe Buffet (from friends). I’m relatively successful in life, but sometimes I just do some things that seem ridiculous.

Let’s just hope that what I said left an impression. Hopefully, it made me memorable, but not in a bad way.
Oh gosh. What am I going to do with myself.

Just Thinking

Location: Home
Mood: contemplative

I drove down to Corvallis for the day.

I was in a sorority. Well, I am in a sorority. I guess once you’re in one you’re in it for life. Anyway, in a sorority you get a whole “family” complete with a big sister and a little sister, sometimes more if you’re lucky enough. Normally, you get your Big sister shortly after joining. This is during your freshman (in the house) year. Then, if all goes accordingly you get your Little sister your sophomore year. Nothing about how I joined my sorority was normal. I joined my sophomore year. So in terms of the sorority, I was a freshman, but I was a sophomore...it’s all very confusing. I got a Big my first year in the house, but she (unfortunately) had to dis-affiliate...that means she left the sorority. However, before that happened, I got a Little during my second year in the house. It was late winter term when they both DA’d...not planned, and independently of one another.

So my third year in the house (my junior year in the sorority, but my senior year in school) I was “adopted” by another Big. She is amazing, and I was welcomed into a big family, because she already had 2 Littles. So I was a triplet. Then I got another Little. She’s fabulous, and I could not be happier with my sorority family. Especially my Little.

Anyway, I told you all of that so that I could tell you this. Today is my Little’s birthday. She’s a sophomore now. In both the house and in school. She joined the house the conventional way, so all of her years add up and are easy to follow. She just moved into the house for the first time a few weeks ago, and I want her to have the best time possible. I feel really bad because I can’t be there. Normally, you would live with your Big the first term you live in the house, but because I joined abnormally, I graduated before we could live together. So, I am forced to be the best Big that I can be...from afar. I don’t want her to feel like she’s missed out on having a Big. So, I wanted to do something special for her birthday.

I had these big plans to surprise her. I wasn’t going to tell her that I was coming into town, and surprise her. However, I found out that she has class until 5pm, and that didn’t really fit into my plans. So, I told her I was coming into town. It would have been cool to do it the original way, but it just wasn’t practical with such a small window.

I have a job interview in Gresham at 10am, so I had to turn around and drive right back after I took her to dinner. So, it really was just a day trip.

There’s something about driving all alone, at night. It really makes you think. I got really deep into my thoughts. It might just be the endless stretch of road. It could also be the fact that you’re passing by towns that seem to be so peaceful, but you feel all alone there in your car.

Sometimes I really feel alone. Being in my car tonight just reaffirmed that. It’s hard to go from undergrad and living with 50 girls, to solo in your car. I was literally driving between two worlds. My undergraduate sorority life which I still feel a part of, and my grown-up, jobless, alone, without a friend world. That’s a tough thing to do, driving down that dark headlight strewn road just made me wonder how I am going to make this transition.

It’s not like I haven’t been trying to make this transition. It would really be nice if once you graduated they just handed you a list of jobs, and said “here you go pick one.” Then once you picked it they gave you that job. I’m not asking for some career Eden right out of school, but something to get my feet wet would be nice. I sort of feel like OSU gave me all of this education, but didn’t provide any help for me to figure out what to do with it.

Now I think I know what I want to do, but that doesn’t help me figure out how to do it. Also, it feels like Gresham is so far from everything and everyone that I’ve grown to know and love in the past few years. It’s hard not to notice that I have no friends. I feel fine most of the time, but it would just be so nice to have someone I could call up and talk to. I would just like a friend that I felt was genuinely concerned with what I was thinking about, and wanted to hear from me. I know that there are girls that I can talk to, and they are genuinely concerned with me. The problem is that they all have their own things going on, and I feel like they forget about me.

That’s hard to take. Every now and then I go through a whole day without actually speaking to anyone, except for my parents. That just reminds me that I don’t have really close friends. I have friends that I can call, but there is no one person that I feel like I can lean on right now. Thank god I’m doing alright, but sometimes it would be nice to know that person was there.