It wasn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me - losing my job, but it still hit hard. I was an up and coming accountant at a large law firm in New Jersey, that is until they fired me. Downsizing is a bitch.
My sister lived in Connecticut, not too far away, and offered to put me up a while until I could get a new job and back up on my feet. That old run-down apartment I was living in was simply too expensive to live in without a job.
Putting most of my stuff into storage, I headed to Connecticut to take up my sister's offer. I was happy to be in such a situation. My sister welcomed me with open arms and her husband was ok with the situation. Neither one of them made me seem like a hardship on their lives.
Every day I would apply for jobs. After two weeks I started to get the interviews. Ugg. Who likes an interview? It was spring and the days were getting warmer, but the mornings were still cold.
"Another interview?" asked Cameron.
"Yeah, like I always dress like this." I chuckled, "I hope this is the one. Interviews suck."
"Good luck to you this morning." he replied.
I noticed he was still in his pajamas and not at all in a hurry.
I smiled, "New dress code at work?"
"Day off! About time too, been working a lot here recently. You always wear those boots to interviews?"
I looked down at the fur lined boots on my feet, and then back up at him, "It's too cold in the mornings. I take them off and put on the high heels for the interview. When it's over the boots go back on."
He pointed toward his brain in approval, "Good thinking. Go kill 'em today."
Cameron was nice. I don't know how my sister got so lucky. He was handsome, had a great sense of humor, and while not wealthy he was doing alright with the money. One day I was going to find a man like him.
I grabbed my briefcase and coffee and headed out the front door.
"Go get 'em!" he said as he raised his hand high up into the air.
Maybe this was my day. I had hoped. Job hunting isn't very much fun.
Well, it turned out that it wasn't my lucky day. The interviewer was cold and indifferent. It was obvious I wasn't getting the job.
Back in the car I slipped off the high heels and put the boots back on. Nice and warm. Comfortable too. All that walking in heels really hurts the feet. Why do we women wear them then? The hour long drive home added insult to the interview 'injury'.
As I opened the front door Cameron's eyes got wide. "Did you get the job?"
"No" I answered as I plopped myself down on the couch, "They just weren't interested."
"Ohhh," he replied, "Well maybe the next interview."
"Maybe," I said, "but I can't think of that right now, my feet hurt sooo bad."
"All that walking in heels huh?"