Dear future me.
It’s only one month left until The Interview. 31 days! And then, a few days of (long and horrible) waiting and I’ll know what the next year will be like. I had decided not to go to The Interview but then a good friend pointed out something for me, and I realized some important things. The result of it is that I’m going. The plane tickets are bought, and the only things left to do is to figure out where I’ll be sleeping and how to get from there and to The Interview.
I’m not sure how I feel about it. Some moments I’m overly excited and certain I’ll get the job, and the next I’m scared half to death and thinking that I’m not good enough. Most of the time I don’t dare to think about it at all, I’m horrible at choosing about anything regarding changes in my own life. Shame on me…
But deep down inside I hope that I’ll get the job (if I didn’t why bother travelling to The Interview?), but at the same time I’m not certain I’ll get it. The Interview is in English and I’m not too good in that language. In fact, I’m almost certain that if I don’t get the job it will be because of my horrible English. Or maybe I’ll just not be dressed right. There are a lot of rules for this Interview, from dressing right to having the right colour on the ink of the pen you have to bring.
Everyone I’ve talked to have had their opinion on this might-be-adventure. Some positive, and some negative. My parents would prefer for me to stay at home and study something instead, but they still support me. Or at least they accept the fact that I’m an adult and are allowed to choose for myself. I have to make my own mistakes, and learn from them.
31 days to wait. I hate waiting! But at the same time, the waiting for anything good (or possibly good) is often good days. Somehow the world gets a little bit better when I’ve got something to look forward to. My smile gets a little bigger and my thoughts a bit brighter…