Right. It's a bit disconcerting that I was only unemployed for exactly one month. I pretty much had some inkling of a hunch the first time I was interviewed at AFP that this might be it. And it is. And that's the downside of everything. I went back to the headquarters yesterday for a deliberation which I seriously had no idea what it was all about. I had to wait for nearly two godforsaken hours before I was called up for, who might've guessed, a panel interview. For a researcher position. I aped a goldfish for some moments there when the captain (who was familiar to me) gave me last minute pointers.
"Did I apply for the wrong position? CEO position or something?" Was what I would've said if the captain didn't abruptly open the door and ushered me inside the conference room. How's a round table with four 3-star generals and the Chief Admin Officer and a singular chair positioned in front as an interrogation process? Honestly, if they wanted the terrorize-the-applicant they did not succeed with me. All the time they kept inquiring, I had to stifle the urge to smile goofily or even laugh outright at the absurdity of it. All throughout those minutes asking me about my perception of the military and how can I adjust to the workload there was the notion of hilarity that could not escape my consciousness. The atmosphere did not exactly oozed of intimidation; I could almost dub the whole interview as a jolly good ol' conversation among peers and a newbie. It didn't help that the highest ranking general (I think, since he was leading the group) looks like a genteel grandfather.
There was another candidate who surprisingly went with her mother who chatted me up while her daughter was terrorized, er, interviewed. As it turned out in the end, I was already off for Makati, when the captain called me up because, hey! I got the job! Only the line was not decorated by an exclamation point but rather an ellipsis. I mean, why the hell in Merlin's name was I chosen? I exuded enough chutzpah during the panel interview (I had the guts to volley underhanded comebacks to some generals) because I got nothing left to lose. I am not dying to have this work but somehow karma's giving me the finger again so I'm stuck here. The only good thing about this is it's contractual and my contract will run until December. They will renew it if my service is still needed although I'm hoping it won't be since by that time my civil service exam result is out and I'm off to NCMH.
There is a foreboding air about this new job that is hauntingly similar to what I had felt two years ago when my former employer called me up for getting the job. That is, I'm leaving my professional bum status with an unappeased lust for loafing. Unfinished fanfictions, stacks of to-read books, my supposedly to-edit works, unfinished BBC programs, albums to listen, ad infinitum. I know I'm much of a turtle when doused with indolence but I'm leaving everything behind without polishing things and it's already grating my nerves. Frustrating!
On another note, the chief admin officer softly reminded me that dress pants and formal tops define their dress code and not jeans. Bummer. Now I have to buy last minute dress pants on Saturday and some collared tops provided that my dwindling money is still clinging a bit. I'll meet up with my college friends on Saturday also for Cors and Beth's long awaited and delayed annual dinner treat. I'm hoping for juicy gossip and current news about college friends I haven't seen since the Pleistocene Age.
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