The Interview

It has been raining for 27 miles. Yes, I know that isn't a timeframe, but if Han Solo can use parsec and be understood then I can use a Michigan highway mile to explain that it has been raining for a damned long time.

Now. Fifteen minutes until the interview. Now. I need to make a run for it or I'll be late for the interview. The interview for a job I need because I don't have a damned job at the moment. A job I don't especially want, but see the previous statement for my motivation.

Mama needs a J.O.B. Mama need that J.O.B. yesterday, but today will also do just fine. Mama sure isn't going to get that J.O.B. looking like a drowned rat now, is she? Maybe just five more minutes and it will slow down.

This parking lot and that building. Why do they gotta be so far from each other? Who makes a parking lot so far from the entrance? Looks just like those highway rest stops except we all are truck drivers and have to play Frogger across the lanes just to pee in a toilet and buy expensive regional pop and dubious ice cream bars in the middle of Winter.

It's still raining. Except now it's raining even harder. With... oh, good. With hail added in for spice. Fab.U.Lous.

What's in here that I can hold over my head? The purse is too small, for once. Why'd I leave the tote in the house? I could use a tote right about now. The folder's got to stay dry because no one will even try to read a soggy resume.

Straws. Oh lord- that's funny. Nothing but straws in the glove box. Could that be any more true? I'ma be on my last straw today if I don't get this job. My last straw... all my last straws in one place and everyone of them got a crease. Now isn't that just the way?

Receipt for bread and half-price chicken from Aldi. This little slip isn't gonna do any good. Where's a CVS receipt when you need one? Couple a' few a' those and I might be able to weave a hat to cover my hair. But you can't do anything with an Aldi receipt to keep you dry. If I get this job I'll be able to buy full-price chicken, maybe even full-price beef and a bottle of wine from the more-than-three-dollars-shelf. Maybe make a fine stew with that beef and wine, maybe even a hunk of sourdough bread.

Maybe even from Kroger and not Aldi. Hell; maybe even from Whole Foods or Fresher Thyme or whatever. Maybe go back to having breakfast again instead of all this intermittant fasting bullshit with black coffee and pretending I'm not H.U.N.G.R.Y. when I wake up and that all a person needs is a jug of black coffee and they're good to go. Breath all smelling of damp beans and fake sugar, now just thinking about a stew's got my stomach carrying on for solid food.

Here. Here's a mint. Mint. Tic Tac. Whatever. Breath is good to go, stomach thinks I'm eating. Rain slowing. I got this. I'm good.

Good to go.

Go. Gotta go. Damn that coffee. Now I really gotta go. Gotta get out of this car or more than just my head is gonna be wet when I get in there. Seven minutes.

Seven minutes to get in there, pee, check my pits, brush my hair, get my game face on. Get my job face on. Get that J.O.B. Please.

Please, God, I gotta get that job.