Sorry, I got sucked into housecleaning and watching tv yesterday, and forgot to update.
I drove through the snow and ice storm to get to the interview–and the driveway to the place was the only plowed road in northern New Jersey, it seemed. I kept thinking about how I would have loved to take this job about five years ago, when I lived less than two miles down the road from it. Bah. I hated that apartment, anyway.
So, I was supposed to meet with three people, one of whom hadn’t come in that day. I talked to the HR lady, who was very soft-spoken, which kinda bugged me. You can’t tell me about the job if I can’t hear you telling me about the job. And she had a handshake like a wet fish. Ick. After twenty minutes with her, it became clear that she didn’t really know anything about the job, other than I would be supporting two executive assistants–one for the (apparently very famous) doctor who ran the place, and one for the second banana.
After that, I talked with Top Doc’s assistant, who told me about the job. She was nice, I enjoyed chatting with her, but the more she talked, the more I realized I really don’t want this job. As she started talking about former assistants, I realized she was petty and vindictive and looking for a serf rather than an assistant. I was supposed to call back yesterday to arrange a time to meet with the second assistant who wasn’t there, but I haven’t bothered. I’ll send HR Lady an email today and tell her I’m not interested. It’s not worth getting dressed up and driving out there when I don’t even want the job.
So, the search continues. But I was forcefully reminded of one thing: I hate job interviews.