job interview

For a long time, my favorite thing in Chicago was the painted window on a certain storefront underneath the Western brown line station: "Chubby Wieners...It Will Happen Soon!" It just had this very portentious feel about it. I know they used this somewhat baroque phrasing to avoid telling us that a wiener would be coming, but that never lessened my delight. I loved how heavy the announcement seemed, how certain: it WILL happen, and SOON.

I'm thinking about the Chubby Wieners sign this week, because things in my life are reaching the It Will Happen Soon point. My options are opening up, change is on the way; could be, who knows. It kicked off three days ago when the job I put in for, and about which I am still reluctant to speak, called me about an interview. So I'm busting down to New York on Tuesday night for a Wednesday afternoon interview with the head of the sales department and the head of HR. I am now an official candidate for this position, and I have the three-page job application form and background check authorization paperwork to prove it.

I rode the bus today. [Edited to add: Not the regular city bus. It's possible that your ride could be somewhat efficient if your bus is a fixed route bus. Then, it would be very linear, I suspect. This bus, however, gives door to door service to people who have mobility issues. I just think it shouldn't be quite so random and sucky.] It was as always an adventure. Today it was less exciting and more time-sucking, as its major flavor.

I had a job interview at a place that takes bets on horse and dog races. Mostly, it would be just weekends.

The interview was at 4. So, of course, I get picked up at 2:20, an entire hour and forty minutes before the appointment.