Progress?

So remember how I've been talking to students for two weeks and haven't gotten anyone to apply? And remember how I mentioned (if I did... if not, just pretend so I can use parallel structure) that literally 3/4 of my training class has already gotten 3+ applications and graduated from the pod and moved on to their actual teams? And remember how I definitely was not but also definitely and completely was freaking out about this? Okay, just making sure we're on the same page.

At the end of last week our pod director pulled the only other non-apper (it's a word...) to the side and gave feedback on why he wasn't getting apps. (Although reports vary, it appears that the other non-apper's issue was a hesitance to abandon his old sales background and incorporate what he had learned in training.) I've been wondering why the director hadn't pulled me aside yet to figure out what the hell I'm doing wrong. Waiting for criticism is a funny thing; I knew I needed it, but who actually wants it? Today I finally got pulled aside. In ten words, here's my basic issue: I'm delightful, but don't take control of the conversation. Wait, that was nine words... Okay: I'm delightful, but don't take control of the conversation. Fail. There we go! Sadly, this wasn't news to me, but I've been having issues connecting "I need to be more aggressive" with "This is how I can be more aggressive." So he role played with me (I know, everything about this job sounds dirty) and said that once I actually get an app my confidence will go up and that will help me greatly. Then the most ominous of all meeting closers: "We'll see how you're doing in a few weeks and go from there."

Four phone calls later, I apped.

Remember me?

I will be the first to admit that I fail at having a real job. I mean, why is 40 hours a week so freaking exhausting? I go to work, come home, and it's basically an immediate coma for me.

For the past two weeks I've been on the phone with students. No apps as of yet. (I'm going to be calm and rational about it in the blogosphere and pretend that I haven't been whining to the roommate and boyfriend every single day.) In my group of twelve, ten people have applications and six have met the requirements to graduate from the pod. I, however, find myself settling into my temporary cubicle more and more each day. I know it will happen eventually, I just hate waiting for that "student in a haystack" as one of my coworkers calls it. Honestly, I would probably be much more okay with my lack of apps if half my training class weren't moving on. I love my training class. Everyone is awesome. But now they're all moving on to their real teams and I'll have to move on to mine eventually, too. Lamesauce.

In addition to the work frustrations, Keri and I have had some delightful house drama lately that is hilarious... except that it's also completely distracting and ridiculous. Basically every single family on the block who currently rents has decided they want to buy our house. Family number one backed out after Keri and I were approved for an apartment. Days later another family wanted to take a look. So we're currently in a limbo of looking at places just in case, but not getting terribly invested in the search lest things fall through again. I hate looking for houses. Loathe, actually. You know how you're supposed to compromise with other people so everyone can be happy? I'm having issues finding things I like, let alone factoring in Keri's wish list. And I swear it's harder looking at houses now that we've been living here for a while. Compromise doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm starting to feel that Keri and I might as well get married, because there is no way I'm ever doing this with another human being ever. Too much thought. But if anyone knows of a 2-3 bedroom single family home in the Squirrel Hill area with a dishwasher and laundry... let me know.

My computer is going to die soon. I wanted to post something epic, but for now I will just settle on actually posting anything at all. For next time: students who try to save your soul, inappropriate ringback tones, and how to personalize paper cranes for all your coworkers.

...I really wish I were joking about the soul-saving thing.

For Reals

I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. Unless I'm too tired. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. Seriously, why are grown-up jobs so exhausting? I want to take a billion naps a day. I will post something when I get home from work tonight. How do people with kids do it? I will post something when I get home from work tonight. I will post something when I get home from work tonight.

Faaaaaiiiiiiiillllllllllllll

Originally I thought this post would contain some awesome photos of Kentuck Knob, a Frank Lloyd Wright house I dragged the boyfriend to on his weekend visit. However, I forgot my camera, the boyfriend forgot the memory card for his, and (oh, yeah) I semi-almost fainted in the middle of the tour and had to leave. Seriously. My face would have been so red... except apparently I was white as a sheet. Basically, we walked through the living room and dining room and kitchen, all of which were completely fascinating in a "Who lives here?" kind of way. Felt fine. Then we went down a narrow hallway to the master bedroom. Small, stuffy, and ridiculously hot. Next thing you know my vision goes blurry and I'm grabbing onto the boyfriend for support, and then I'm on the terrace sitting on a bench. Awesome. The truly disappointing part (besides being completely embarrassed and mortified and frustrated that I spent a gajillion dollars on a tour I didn't even get to enjoy) is (as the boyfriend told me later) someone called out, "Get her on the bed!" but then (I'm just assuming this was the timeline) an older tourguide came in and told him to take me outside. I came so close to laying on a bed in a Frank Lloyd Wright house! So close.

Tomorrow we're going to see the Stanley Cup downtown. Fun fact: apparently it's not just a random trophy that no one could possibly care about enough to line up for hours. It's the same trophy. I think it makes more sense now... my emotional connection to sports is pretty much nonexistent unless it involves Denzel Washington or Sandra Bullock.

Now that my first week of work is over, I'm still trying to get my head around the job. More accurately, I'm still trying to get my head around how well I'll do in the job. Admissions rep? I can totally do that. But salesy admissions rep with quotas and a cubicle? Who knows. Apparently only 50% of trainees graduate from "the pod" in two weeks... the rest have to stay until they reach a preliminary quota. I am begging you, o creator of the universe and any other force I could possibly appeal to, please let me graduate in time. I don't want to be in "the pod." It doesn't sound like a fun place. According to my supervisor, I have a very soft and soothing phone voice that will help put nervous students at ease. I'm not sure how much I agree with that, but whatever works to my advantage, right? To be on the safe side, I'm offering every student a pony if they enroll. I'm all about the incentives.

Keeping it casual

You know, when I was a kid my mom always told me to avoid interviewing for jobs on Fridays so you don't think the company is more casual than they actually are.

Someday, my children will be able to say this. Don't worry, I definitely dressed up for work on my first day. And my second day. And today. And I will every Monday through Thursday. Damn. My recent shopping would have taken a different turn had I known.

The good news? I will get my own cubicle! I've been mentally decorating for the past two days. I don't actually move into my cubicle until four weeks from now (ish), so I suppose I have plenty of time. The first two weeks I'm training, then the next two weeks (ish) I'm moving to what they call "the pod" to practice calling potential students under intense supervision. I'm sure that won't be intimidating at all. Really.

I wish I could talk about work more/with more enthusiasm, but I've been completely exhausted every night even though I've had fun during the day. Besides, Minute to Win It is on, and it's really irresponsible of me to miss the greatest hour of television known to man.

Bureaucratic Jitters

This is ridiculous. Tomorrow is my first day of work, but I'm feeling like it's my first day of high school. Obsessing over my outfit? Check. Wondering what my authority figures will be like? Check. Worrying about catching the bus on time? Actually, that one is a false parallel... I didn't take the bus in high school, and I decided to drive in tomorrow so I can really see what kind of bus stops are closest to work. (FYI, Pittsburgh Port Authority... your website sucks.)

I just typed out "I have no idea why I'm so nervous" and then deleted it. Of course I'm nervous. This isn't like my first day at retail job [which will hereafter be known as retail job from hell]; I'm actually (hopefully) going to be at this company for a while. At least until grad school, whenever that happens. This is the first job I've ever had that has a sense of permanence attached to it. This is the first job I've ever had that has a sense of "Oh god, I need to pay rent" attached to it. This is me entering the world of grown-up bureaucrats.

And, to top it all off, the boyfriend is visiting next weekend. The great thing about long-distance relationships is that you really savor the time you have together. The terrible thing about long-distance relationships (mostly for the people living with the participants of said relationship) is that every time you see each other it almost becomes an event, and thus creates some stress in the midst of anticipation. So even though I'm obviously very excited to see him, it's sort of one more thing going on this week that I have to think about. Yeah... I realize that I sound like the world's worst girlfriend for saying that. But until his arrival on Friday, I'm just going to focus on not being the world's worst grown-up bureaucrat.

Million dollar question... if dollar equals awkward

Today was my second time interviewing a participant. (I always want to simply type in "I had an interview today," but I know that if I do I'll get a billion questions about job prospects and where I'm interviewing and I'll just have to explain that I finally found a full-time job and am not interviewing for any more positions thankyouverymuch.) Like the last one, it was delightfully easy. And the guy was pretty adorable. They just moved into a new house (I wanted to buy it from them on the spot), and they have a one-month-old baby and a four-year-old. And I thought moving a minivan's worth of possessions was tough. But yeah, not a huge difference between the participants. Oh, except for this:

Question: How many times have you had sex within the past year?

Guy #1: I don't know... a thousand, I guess.
Me: ...That would be about three times a day.
Guy #1: [shrug]

Guy #2: Oh, um... [sheepishly] Well, my wife was pregnant for nine of those months, so a lot of that stuff was, you know, off limits... Um... Ten?

I realize that it can sound like a daunting question, but it's not that difficult if you break it up into a weekly average and then multiply. I mean seriously.