I Need A Muzzle

If you haven't noticed, I am awful at keeping this blog up to date. I wish I could say it's due to my chronic dating addiction and Maxim photo shoots but no such luck. (In reality it's more like I have been busy with my addiction to internet porn and Betty Crocker.)  I have however, been interviewing at a few companies and have been offered a job. I immediately took it and am very excited about it...looks like I won't be dying a spinster in my parents basement afterall. All my repenting for being a tad slutty in my younger years has finally paid off.

I am not quite sure how I managed to pull off my first interview. I know I can be charming but I actually sounded incredibly intelligent. I was so proud of myself. I didn't sweat, swear or mumble which in my books, is a good day.

However, in my second interview, I really felt the pressure to "bring it,"  because I knew it was a good sign they asked me to come back. Despite the fact that my ass had been eating my pants all morning and my wedgie was splitting me in half, I managed to pull off another great interview. I felt incredibly comfortable. So comfortable in fact that when my boss asked me what I was doing this weekend, I told him "pole dancing." Which wasn't a lie. I was going to learn how to be an exotic dancer at a bachelorette party I was going to.  It literally just flew out of my mouth. He stared at me with a blank look on his face. At this point the oxygen supply was limited to my brain. I felt my face turning purple and the awkwardness between us was unreal. He then followed it up with "Don't go moonlighting as a stripper, " and thankfully, began to laugh.

Holy fuck. Was I really having this conversation with my new boss who thinks I am smart and professional?

Wait, it gets worse.
I decided to take the spotlight off of me as he was walking me to the elevator so I asked him "What are you doing this weekend?" Now please keep in mind that I had been working on my positive attitude prior to this interview so my response to everything would be enthusiastic and it would appear to others that I am not an empty shell like I have felt for months.

"Well, one of my colleague's father passed away suddenly so I am going to the funeral home tonight..." before he could finish, I responded with great enthusiasm  "Nice!" I immediately had a flashback from the movie P.S I Love You when Harry Conick Jr. asks Hillary Swank "What did he die from?"
"A brain tumor."
"Nice."

Thankfully, my boss continued talking without the acknowledgement of my inappropriate conversation skills.

No doubt I will be back on the market in no time for another job.

Keep it real bitches.

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