I had a real, live job interview this morning. GirlChild is starting kindergarten in the fall so I figured I should do something to help cover the cost of my addiction to slot machines. Those twenties don’t just magically appear by themselves. I actually have to root through Babycake’s wallet for those bad boys.
And so I approached THE closet – that would be the closet that hasn’t had a working light fixture for a week and a half and has a 12-foot ladder in it that both Babycakes and I have decided to leave in there as it would take less energy than moving it. It was tough working around the ladder in the dark trying to locate a shirt that didn’t say “Hanes” and a pair of pants that didn’t have elastic around the waist. I’m apparently having shoe issues too since I almost gave up and wore a pair of Chaco’s. They were a step-up from my flip flops.
My teaching gig in Kenya was a lot easier – I had exactly three dresses that I cycled through and one pair of shoes that I wore until there were holes in the bottom. When they exploded, I wore Tevas for the remainder of my time. Here is one of my teaching sacks:
This was an interview for a teaching position and the highlight (of an otherwise pleasant interviewing process) was the presentation of a sheet of math problems. Apparently they wanted to see if I actually knew math (crazy I know!) and the paper was a snap. I guess it was too much of a snap, because they decided to smack a second paper on the table with some higher math and I could feel the blood starting to pound at my temples. *gulp* (Can they look inside my mind and know that I haven't seen this stuff in over 10 years?) I managed to pull the word “hyperbola” out of my ass and ALMOST remembered how to find the derivative of the sin function. I also had to admit that I didn’t know what in the hell a “SmartBoard” was and that I’m really more comfortable with a pocket of chalk. I’m also more comfortable teaching in a room with lots of fresh air and the threat of corporal punishment looming over the heads of my students.
We’ll see if I’m employed come August or scooping poop at the PetCo.
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