I’ve begun the process of applying. Again. Some are for jobs, some are for money. Some are even for jobs that pay money! And some of them require an online application, using some whiz-bang technology that can take all my disassociated snippets of information and magically transform them into a coherent, polished package of arcane and intellectual superiority. So they say.
Or they can just eat whatever I upload, which seems to be the case this evening. After waiting anxious weeks to hear about an interview opportunity, I was told that my application was “Incomplete”. That’s like finding out halfway through mass that you have no pants on! So I checked the Whiz-banger, with an attitude somewhat resembling a haughty accountant. Until I found out my page of “Documents and Files” was naked, bare, and the exact opposite of complete. Mea culpa.
And so the frantic uploading of everything again, with fingers crossed and stomach knotted. I’m afraid to look tomorrow. What if it’s not there? What if it is? What if–now–they call me for that interview I’ve been dreading/anticipating all along?
Growing up is so difficult.
