Uh, no.

Show up for the 7pm interview which was arranged at 10:30am earlier today. Got lost en route cause that's how I roll.

The offices were not my cup of tea. Perhaps I'm being a bit of a princess, but they were cramped and noisy to say the least. And then I was given a test. I thought it would be an aptitude test or a general accounting knowledge test but no, it asked questions about how to appropriately record: goodwill; non interest bearing notes receivable; early payment discounts; SRED expense; allowance for doubtful accounts based on the receivables versus credit sales; and a bunch of other stuff that I haven't seen since I was working on my accounting diploma at Kwantlen. Two years ago. I don't think I did well. Am I supposed to crack open my Intermediate Accounting books before I go for interviews now? Cause I'm not gonna.

Anyways. Nice people. A couple of good looking guys there. They're growing and I could grow with them, but I'm frightened by statements like "our inventory is a mess" and "we're moving to a bigger location" and "we're upgrading our accounting system". Sure, there was time when this would be a challenge to me and yes, I've helped clean up inventories and I've pitched in for system upgrades and I've helped move offices (twice). I don't want to do that just yet. I just want to work at a job. And have safety meetings.

Actually, I don't want to work at all so I really do think I'll take my time and try hard to find the best match for me (providing, of course, that they want me, but of course they will because of the glasses).

On a totally unrelated note, here is the running toque I bought today. The logo is pretty glaring and I'm wondering if I should try and scratch it off before I go to tomorrow's clinic cause I've seen people derided for wearing RR socks! But the logo is reflective. And safety first, right?

These are unsafe times we live in.

Sigh. I miss safety meetings. I want to find a job that has a Newlywed Guy and an Opera Guy and a Robot Liberator and a Work Husband.

And a Clive Owen.

And nap time.

Now I'm just being ridiculous.