I good at work. You hire me, okay?

This morning I had an interview for the developer/coordinator position of an educational cartoon program. I did not have a suit, so two days ago I bought one at H&M. I looked like something between the Hulk, because the jacket was one size too small (yes, this was the best I could come up with on a budget), and Quasimodo, because I slouch and am usually unaware of it. Well, last night there was a huge blizzard that stacked up about 19 inches of snow. Not knowing where I would leave my boots after switching to interview-appropriate footwear, I traveled through the snow in heels. I am bad-ass. I almost slipped and broke my neck and died like... five times. I only got swamped in an ice cold puddle once. The further I marched on, the nastier I started to look. My hair was wind-blown in a non sexy way... a mangy way. My face was weathered with fear of slipping and breaking my neck. My right foot was cold and wet from stepping into a mound of snow when the path got too narrow.

I finally arrived with time to spare. The receptionist asked if I needed to freshin' up in the restroom. What? I am the sodden lovechild of the Hulk and Quasimodo... I am not sure how much freshin' can help me at this point.
The research director and grant writer took me into the conference room. I driveled on about myself... all of it is now a blur. I might not have been coherent. "I went to school. Yes, Columbia. I go there. I used to go there. Research. I know how to do that. Analyze the data, I analyze so super. Behavioral therapist. I did that. I know how to communicate. I communicate good to kids... children. I like conflict. No, conflict resolution. I do that good by not responding and strategizering. I can help your company like, ummm, become big like huge. Duane Reade is my future. I, uhhh... I mean I make you big like Dune Reese. Reese Witherspoon. Please gib me job. GIB IT OBER TO ME! I can help you... You got health care?"

The interview room made my face feel fat and my lips dry.
Holy crap man, Quasi needs a job. Quasi needs a job real bad. This is most definitely bonkers.

Applications are done... now I wait in agony.

It has been one painfully long process, but my graduate applications are done. I am waiting. I should hear back between February and late March/early April. In the meantime, I will be looking for a job.
I might not get into graduate school this year. If I do not... I will march into a Duane Reade and ask for a job application, go home, hold my fists up to the heavens, and yell, "WHYYYYYY?!" Then, after sobering up, I will go on Monster, Craig's List, and LionShare to look for something in market research or something with the word research in it because I know I can do stuff of that variety. Anyway, my stomach feels like crazytown because of either the breakfast meatball sub or the orange juice.