I am currently in the middle of a panic attack that struck at approximately 3:32:46 this afternoon, June 18th, when I got called back by a representative of Premiere Magazine. I was supposed to be prepared with salary requirements, convenient times for an interview, and paper and pencil. Mind you, I wasn't, because it's not normal for people to call you back an hour and a half after you send them your resume and cover letter.

Which reminds me. Possibly one of the most absurd things I've ever done in my life: *not* gone over that cover letter twice for spelling. The position's copy editing- copy editing!- and I shall quote from it with hard-earned Ultimate Embarassment: "I have attached my resume for you perusal." YOU perusal! Ech! That's a mistake other people make! That's the kind of mistake you expect from thrid-raet applicant's who haven't read a book since Clifford in 6th grade!

OK. Whew. Nevermind. I had to get it out. They called, at least. I'm in the door. My salary requirements were probably too high but I can't make do with less, what with my multimillion dollar student loan.

Blithely shall I skippe to the Interviewe on Thursday in my borrowed cloths. Blithely shall I mount the Staircase, enter the Chamber of Interrogation, and Expounde upon all of my Virtues- and some belonging to others- and None of my Vices. And, Praise be the Lorde!- I shall get this job. Right shall prevail. They will even give me MORE money than I asked for, because I deserve it. Yes! I do!

There comes a time in every man's life, said H.L. Mencken, when he must roll his sleeves, run up the Jolly Roger, and start slitting throats. While I doubt slitting anyone's throat will impress them, I will most certainly kick their collective ass.

Or else.