favorite job ever

So it's Thursday. And tomorrow I have to work all of one entire hour. And then I get to go home. And I can wear jeans to work, because I don't have to do anything but type and telephone. I love this "set your own schedule" concept.

Meanwhile, it's been a successful week, by every measure but one: I am the world's least physically organized person. I drop everything. I drop pens (as many as twenty times a day.) I drop paper. I leave my pen in the car. I leave my paper in the car. I leave my badge in the car. I knock things off desks. I leave things on desks. I leave my keys on a desk for an hour while I do interviews in the state penitentiary. That may be the stupidest thing I've done in months. Fortunately, none of the young men wandering around wearing orange jumpsuits and carrying Windex noticed them. My trainer picks my pens up, refrains from making fun of me about the keys incident (most of the time) and silently hands me whatever office supply I've forgotten when I look at him with imploring eyes. The most he's said is, gently, "Suzanne, why don't you get everything organized here in the car before you go in to get those records?"

On the other hand, I rock at this interviewing thing. Having a good memory helps. Being unintimidated helps a lot. Finding it funny when the woman I approach yells, "Why the f*** do you want to know?" is a plus. (It's been months since I've been sworn at by a tweaker, and it's as entertaining in person as it is on the phone.) And being deeply competitive is priceless.