An Interview With An Empire
Tuesday’s coming.
I’m all jittery.
Like jelly on the Osim igallop.
I dislike interviews. It’s just like begging for something, just done sublimely. It’s akin to making a stranger trust your character in a matter of minutes. Frankly, I find it quite hard to sell myself to strangers just sitting across a wide table. They might as well be aliens on holiday.
I’m nice. Really.
You need to tell them positive aspects of your personality, your achievements and even your weaknesses. At the same time, you have to come across likable and sincere. It’s like asking me to stand naked in Taka Square peddling those stainless steel pots.
Rub that nauseating thought off yourmammary memory.
Most people lie in interviews. I churn stories.
Ever think about what goes on in the interviewers’ mind during the interviews? What are they really thinking about once you walk through the door? They sit there, watching your every move, eying you like a lab rat in a those little plastic boxes.
Hmm…. Fresh blood….
They give you the once over.
You stretch your lips to form a tense, lame excuse of a smile.
They offer their hand for a shake.
Then invite you to sit down.
And you start praying their blardy 8 characters click damn, damn well with yours.
You carefully rest on your thighs, trying to look asdefenseless open as possible.
You feel the beads of sweat gather into large wads then merge to form rivers.
And you wish for armpits to stay dry.
I’m all jittery.
Like jelly on the Osim igallop.
I dislike interviews. It’s just like begging for something, just done sublimely. It’s akin to making a stranger trust your character in a matter of minutes. Frankly, I find it quite hard to sell myself to strangers just sitting across a wide table. They might as well be aliens on holiday.
I’m nice. Really.
You need to tell them positive aspects of your personality, your achievements and even your weaknesses. At the same time, you have to come across likable and sincere. It’s like asking me to stand naked in Taka Square peddling those stainless steel pots.
Rub that nauseating thought off your
Most people lie in interviews. I churn stories.
Ever think about what goes on in the interviewers’ mind during the interviews? What are they really thinking about once you walk through the door? They sit there, watching your every move, eying you like a lab rat in a those little plastic boxes.
Hmm…. Fresh blood….
They give you the once over.
You stretch your lips to form a tense, lame excuse of a smile.
They offer their hand for a shake.
Then invite you to sit down.
And you start praying their blardy 8 characters click damn, damn well with yours.
You carefully rest on your thighs, trying to look as
You feel the beads of sweat gather into large wads then merge to form rivers.
And you wish for armpits to stay dry.
Begone stains! NO! NOT TODAY! BEGONE!!
Else you had better just die and be forever christened ‘the person who died’, rather that then ‘that one with the wet pits’.
Wah lao.
Tell me about yourself…
sell yourself, make me like you
What are your strengths and weaknesses?
you stupid enough to dig a hole…?! Or can you think on your feet and turn this trap around?
Where do you see yourself in 10 years?
How driven are you?
How are you an asset to the company?
What can we expect to fleece off you?
Normally, I rate how well the interview is going by the amount of eye contact, and read a relaxed or forward leaning posture as ideal. Another optimistic sign is the flow of communication. Engaging in conversation is much better then one-way Q&A. Often, I try to make and maintain a healthy amount of eye contact to acknowledge their presence. On and off scribbles when you’re emphasizing key areas of strengths is also another good sign.
The main thing in my mind is remembering why the hell I was willing to put myself through such scrutiny in the first place, bite my tongue and grin and bear it. That and whisper prayers so I don’t crash and burn.
Just smile and wave boys. Smile and wave….
I need to psyche myself up with positive energy. Karma chameleon.
Sharon’s always great at interviews. She has the gift of ticking chins and can make you believe she can turn water into wine. She possesses something special =)
Then again, that woman can make anyone give up their liver if she really wanted to.
My appointment’s in the late afternoon. Hopefully, a heavy meal will shunt most of the blood away from the brain and towards the GI (gastrointestinal) system, rendering the interviewers relaxed and content. Either that or houseman canteen should serve them pot that day.
Lotsa, lotsa pot.
And I hope all they see is Jimmy Hendericks and psychedelic swirls of happy, happy, happy colors.
