Cue Punchline Drumroll

I'm still waiting for the punchline of the joke that starts off with "I received $210 for my paycheck after being laid off, rather than a severance or paid time off".  Does anyone know this one, because I sure hope it's hilarious.

ANGER.  RAGE.  HUNGER.  POVERTY?

In other more positive news, set up first interview today.  The most promising side of the potential job is the salary.  Yes yes yes, I know, shouldn't be too important, but I'm 25 and ready to stop living paycheck to paycheck.  No need for that.  I'm hoping that this gig is legit.  I have this sneaking feeling that my interviewer will have something equivalent to a handlebar moustache and the "business casual" dress code is some type of innuendo for "sexy secretary".  When I enter the "interview room" there will just be some guy named "Rod" and a dork with a handicam.  I always worry that jobs will turn out to be dissapointing scams.  It all started during my job hunt right after college. 

After sending my resume out to countless businesses that might posess a glimmer of hope in my financial future, I got a call for an interview.  When you're neck deep in a job search you kind of start to loose track of who you sent your history to. Had they claimed I'd sent my info to a prestigious ice cream truck driving service, financially strapped as I was, I'd be there with bells on.  I eventually learned that this was a job placement agency...i.e. a temp service.  Something about temping has always seemed utterly unnattractive to me.  It's the absolute last thing I'd want to do-not knocking people who do this-but it's just not for me.  I may HAVE to do it eventually.  Following the "business attire" request for dress, I put on my sharp Anne Taylor suit (left off jacket in 90 degree weather) and trotted down to their location.

I walked up the stairway, clearly not the one Robert Plant sang of (or maybe it was...what IS that song about, anyway?  and what's a hedgerow?).  It smelled like some sort of air freshener made of stale cigarettes.  This at a time when I was smoke free, so the odor was that much more pungent.  I walked in to register with a couldn't-be-more-than-23 bleached blonde receptionist.  If I remember correctly, her name was "Lindsey".  I waited patiently for my turn alongside some young folks...them sporting khakis and polos or summer dresses and flip flops.  I was hideously overdressed. 

Soon enough, my name was called and I entered into a smaller room and was given a test.  The test was both a verbal and math - something short of an SAT, some of the questions alarmingly easy.  After about 30 minutes, I finished and turned in my paper.  Lindsey scored my answers and soon enough, she told me that I seemed like a great candidate and that they'd contact me shortly.  I never answered their messages, but I guess it was good to experience nonetheless.