This past week, my stomach has become a breeding ground for evil butterflies and my brain one for traitorous thoughts of self-doubt and insecurity.
The reason for this outbreak in horribleness comes from the interview that is looming in front of me. It’s my first interview for an official adult-type job. You could say I’m pretty terrified. I’ve always been horrible at interviews. Just the whole idea of being judged freaks me out. I’m also really bad at talking myself up. Also, first impressions. They do say that first impressions are very important, which just freaks me out even more.
Since I received the fateful phone call last Tuesday, I have spent my days meticulously planning the perfect interview outfit and Googling example interview questions online. My nights have been spent restlessly tossing and turning while alternately letting myself hope and telling myself to shut up. That little time between was spent painting my nails, very horribly unfortunately.
Now, here I am, sitting in my room binge watching The Office on Netflix because I’m too wired to fall asleep. I have my outfit picked out, a store of advice from my familial confidantes, and a very loud alarm set on my phone so I don’t accidentally sleep through my interview. Less than 10 hours to go.