Hell in Heels

So, I had the interview ... 2 hours and 15 minutes! I was shot, emotionally and physically (only had coffee for breakfast) and was totally exhausted by processing the duality of caring ... and not. I figure for every job offer I've received, I've suffered through at least 5 interviews. So, I busted out my size 8 BeBe pants (I get that a size 8 might not be considered "skinny", but I bought those pants when I was 29!, so fuck off), a proper business shirt covered with a vest and my high heeled business shoes ... cuz it was business time. So, I drove the 40 minutes (the job would be 70 miles round trip) to the building, and checked in. After meeting with HR, I took a computer test. The typing test consisted of like 8 pages! My wrists and fingers were seriously tired. I get the whole typing test thing, but for the love of God, why so many?? After that, there was a computer test, which I thought I'd nail, but once you're actually tested whether or not you're a geek, you realize how much you're NOT! One of the questions asked was about .... yawn ... the information section of a computer. I second guessed myself: is it a processor ... or a hard drive? Processor or hard drive? Hard drive or processor?? I know this! Damn! I felt like a tool. I took for granted how much I knew ... or didn't know ... about computers. Anyway, I guess I passed the test, because HR took me to shadow two positions. After that, I spent one parched, shaky hour on the other side of a sand colored Formica table in front of 2 men. For all of the interviews I've suffered, these words I'm about to utter are un-utterable: they were soooo nice ... super sensitive ( I know ... it was a job interview) and concerned about maintaining the culture of the company ... which I respect. I left the building so thirsty my tongue was heavy as silt, starving- yet nauseous, nerves fried. As a consummate job seeker, I've developed a cell in my brain that keeps me from caring ... from getting excited ... putting the cart before the horse, if you will. It's similar to the part of our stomachs that used to digest bone ... an anatomically, mammalian trait established for one's survival. Call it the job seeker's Darwinian approach. See, cuz I've had too many interviews and read too many consultant articles and tips from the top to be at all hopeful. Here's the truth: employers have made a decision about you within 10 seconds of your arrival; your appearance is the most telling story an employer has to make about you; and if the hiring manager was kicked in the shin by a redhead in 7th grade, I'm fucked.