Up until about 45 minutes ago, I was stressing over a set of interviews I had today for a dream of a job. I was angsting over my answers to their questions, my questions to them, my general persona, whether I said too much, whether I said too little, my smile, the suit I was wearing, my resume, my past experience, my outlook for the position, etc. etc. etc. I was worrying about whether they'd call back and if thinking I might have done well in the interview was being optimistic or setting myself up for disappointment. I was running 10 million different scenarios through my mind; reasons why they would like me and reasons why they wouldn't like me, reviewing why this was a dream job and trying to convince myself (although failing miserably at it) that maybe it wasn't all that it's cracked up to be, in the case that I don't win over their hearts. Anyhoot, like I said, that was 45 minutes ago.
Then I went to Goshen Animal Hospital to go pick up my puppy. Really, she's 9 years old and no longer a puppy, per se, but in my heart, she'll always be my little rugrat of a mutt, despite being pure-bred. About a week ago, I discovered a bubble in Haley's ear that had formed rather recently as I love to rub Haley's floppy ears and had not felt it before. Sure enough, it turned out that Haley had an aural hematoma that ended up requiring surgery. So, 45 minutes ago, I picked Haley up from surgery.
The doctor had described the whole surgical process to me in great detail and I thought I knew what I was getting into, but apparently not. He told me the bandages weren't going to be pretty, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of my puppy as she came out into the waiting room where I picked her up. She'd been out of surgery for several hours at that point, so she was basically alert and everything, although something less than thrilled to see me, but the bandages were so that she looks like she just had some sort of brain surgery.My heart sank to my stomach and suddenly my performance in this morning's interviews didn't really matter (too much). Still, after about an hour of getting used to Haley's new look, the job and whether I get it or not is relatively unimportant to me. My best friend is in pain and certainly not happy (despite the smile she feigned for the camera) and that's all that matters. Sigh.
