I made it back from Atlanta in one piece. Hooray.
I think the interview went well. The one thing that surprised me was that it was only about half an hour long. I had been expecting at least an hour’s worth of grilling, but it was fairly standard and short.
I’m not really sure whether to see this as a good or a bad sign. It could be good, in that they knew that I know what I’m talking about and that I’m enthusiastic. It could also be bad, in that they decided I wasn’t the right person, personality-wise or whatever.
They’re interviewing the other candidates tomorrow and Wednesday, and said they’d try and let me know as soon as possible whether I got the job.
I’ve been flipflopping back and forth on whether I think I’m going to get it or not. I thought immediately after the interview that it went really well. Then when I was at work I was really pessimistic.
I think that’s mostly because I’ve realized how much hope I’ve staked on getting this job, despite how much I’ve been trying not to. I realized how much I hate my current job as a hotel bartender, particularly the manager of the hotel and the food and beverage manager.
I will be working six nights a week until I get some sort of relief. And if I have to do that more than two weeks, I’m quitting. This is not a job I can sacrifice my life and my sanity for. I don’t make enough money, and more importantly, I don’t have enough fun.
Getting this job with the Braves would really solve all kinds of problems for me. I don’t really know what I’m going to do if I don’t get it, other than be incredibly pissed, and I think realizing that has made me more discouraged about my chances for the job.
Damn it. I wish I knew what these people were thinking. These will be a nerve-racking few days, and the only distraction I’m going to have is work (which bites) and a surgical consult on my pain in the ass (which will also be tremendously unpleasant).
I really hope I get this damn job. It’d be perfect for me. I just hope I convinced the guys I interviewed with of that.