This past week was fairly productive, albeit in a slightly soul-crushing sort of way.
I have a "casual" part-time job interviewing participants for a longitudinal study on anti-social personality disorder. Basically, when they need someone they call me and I say whether or not I can go. It will keep me solvent until I find something steady, and once I find something steady it will pay my bar tab. Win-win-win, right?
I interviewed for this job a few weeks ago, and although I knew on the spot that I had it (I'll be honest, the "interview" was mostly me asking questions about the study from a man who told me, in nicer language, that any idiot can do this job) it took until the end of last week for me to officially get the offer because of the fifty billion background checks they have to do. And when the job offer finally came in, I was told that the offer was contingent on the results of a physical, as well as Act 33 and FBI clearances. The latter two I knew about well in advance, and I've stopped pondering why a girl who will be hanging out with some violent criminals needs to gets fingerprinted, but a physical? Really? So on Groundhog Day (the adorable lady who set up my fingerprinting and physical appointments was very excited that I would have such a full schedule on that day) I drove into Oakland and got poked and prodded into submission. The best part? They gave me a TB test, so I had to drive back yesterday and pay $3 for parking just to lift my sleeve up and show them I probably wasn't going to die any time soon. And I need to go back twice more for yet another TB test. Do people even get TB anymore? Come on.
Monday I go to orientation, which will last eight hours and will cover a lot of stuff that doesn't apply to my job, but I get free food and a paycheck. Slight loss-win-win! And Wednesday I begin my specific training so I know how to react when a thirty-something year old male tells me about a violent crime he committed. (Not joking, my supervisor told me that stuff like that comes up.) I'm actually pretty excited for this job a) because it's a job, and b) because, if nothing else, I think it will be a learning experience, and those are good, right?
Yesterday I also interviewed for a research job at a local college. The job would be teaching participants how to use a computer program, and then administering pre and post cognitive tests. However, considering that I sounded like a babbling idiot during the interview, I'm thinking she'll choose one of the five other people she was meeting with. I have no idea what's wrong with me; it's like I have the yips. I did the same thing during a retail interview last week. I know how I want to respond, and in my head it's always brilliant (or at least passing for human speech), but as soon as I open my mouth it all falls apart. But, hey, who needs steady employment anyway? I've already seen my future, and it involves fluffer nutter!