Lie to Me Like you Love me!

Being jobless makes me feel...inadecquate, boring, and lazy. But not for lack of trying. I have been to a few interviews...with nothing to show...yet. But that doesn't stop me from sweating like a hooker in a confessional all the way there and during the interview. Nerves are like jimmies on store bought cookies. You hate 'em but you don't have any choice otherwise because you really want that cookie.

Interviewing is torture. You have to sell yourself, pretending to be something you're not so that you can get a job you don't want so you can get money you do want to pay bills you don't want to pay. It's an ugly vicious cycle. I am no show dog, and during the interviewing process I feel like a mutt amongst the pure-breds. I can never jump high enough, run fast enough, have a coat silky enough, have nice enough teeth to be the Best in Show (I have been watching the Dog Shows along with Lifetime). The questions they ask I swear are configured to make me look a bumbling fool. The clincher: Tell me about yourself. All I want to say is "Me scared. Just wet my pants. I want mommy." Sad to say, that's not exactly the answer they were looking for. Too oft have I gotten the email that says we have narrowed the candidates and you are not among them. A.K.A. You suck as a person and will fail at everything you attempt. It makes me feel like sunshine dust every time I read those.

Someone wise once told me the best thing to do in an interview is to lie. I quite a skilled liar. But there are some character qualities that I'm PRETTY sure they will know you don't posses after a while. I can lie my way out of who ate the last Twix, who used the last of the milk, who broke that? Do you want to know who it always is? It was the Show Dog, in the bathroom, with the floss that's who.