Greetings, my two and a half remaining readers. How are you on this fine Sunday?
Life in Sarsland has been — well — interesting. I had my New York interview this week. It went well — mostly. I was interviewed by three people. I'm confident that two of the three will report back positively. The third person spent the entire interview actively smiling at me. Or smirking. Or smiling. Or smirking. I really couldn't tell. She either really liked me, or she really didn't. And since she's the big boss, her opinion matters.
So, basically, I don't know. I've no clue. I'll either get an offer out of them this coming week, or else I'll get a please-go-away-now letter. One or the other...
The flight back was a nightmare, but I haven't got the energy to tell that story. And it's not that funny anyways, just frustrating.
The following morning I had a phone interview for a completely different job. That interview went spectacularly well. The guy ended the call by saying I think you're the perfect candidate for this position. (Well, thank you. Yes, I am.) Normally I would follow up several hours later by sending a thank-you note to the interviewer. In this case, though, he sent me one approximately 30 seconds after the call. Seriously.
I have a second interview this week with the head of the European team. Unless I seriously screw that up or there is some major HR frak-up, I feel reasonably confident that I will get an offer from them.
I really don't know which one I would choose if offered both. Both have roughly equivalent salaries. Both have good prospects for the future, but in different ways. Both seem to involve great teams of people. One has more interesting day-to-day work; the other has better work-life balance (a concept almost unheard of in my industry). One has the added advantage of a great title and name-brand recognition, which I guess sways the odds in its favour. Hmm...
As soon as I got off the phone, I got dressed and headed to the hospital. Yes, that's right, the hospital. The urgent care centre, to be precise. You see 48 hours earlier a golf-ball sized lump had appeared in my left tit. And it frakking hurt... In the two days since the stupid thing had doubled in size (to about the size of a tennis ball). It felt like it weighed about as much as a bowling ball, and it hurt like nothing else on this earth has any right to.
Oh yes, that's right. I not only had a job interview while in more pain than I have ever been in in my life, I kicked serious arse on said interview.
I spent many hours sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the hospital's waiting room, re-reading Heinlein's classic novel, Friday. To make a long and (literally) painful story less long, I was eventually told that it is almost certainly an abscess. Neither pleasant nor sexy, but definitely not life threatening. Painful? Oh wow, yes. But I'll be okay.
I have to go back tomorrow to be poked at and prodded some more. And I'll be on antibiotics for another week. But that should be that.
In the meantime I've got one really big boob, which is pretty awesome. I feel like I should take some side-profile shots of myself just to prove that I ever achieved such 'status' even if only briefly and for all the wrong reasons.
Anyways, back to the whole job conversation... On Friday I got an e-mail from a former colleague who wants me to work for her company. Cutting another long story short, I may have a job offer from them before the end of the week as well. Hee hee.
I guess this is what it feels like to be popular!