The Way I Think

Hey. Thanks so so much for all your comments on my last post. Sometimes I wonder why I blog, then I read other peoples blogs, comments on other peoples blogs, comments on my own blog, and…I remember exactly why. To hear I’m not alone. I love social media and I also hate it because seeing everyone’s statuses squealing about getting promotions or getting the coolest job ever, Instagram pictures that feature the hashtag “#engaged” and whatever, gets me reallll down in the dumps. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for everyone and when I comment ‘congrats! happy for you!’ I mean it (most times), but sheesh, I hate that their happiness/success makes me feel like shit about myself. I feel angry and saddened that (it appears) everyone is moving forward yet I am like a hamster on the wheel that never gets anywhere, forever chilling on the very bottom. Being grateful every day is not something that comes easily to me. Neither does self-acceptance (believe me we know, think longtime readers of this blog).

I was thinking today about how I always dwell on all the things that I’m not and all the things I don’t have, instead of all the things that I am and all the things that I do have. What brought this revelation on was when I was at the mechanic/neighbors picking up our plentiful packages [oh the holiday season], and one of the mechanics said to me, “I thought you should know that when your package came today, as so-and-so signed for it, he said ‘Oh good, that means Caitlyn will come by today.’ We all look forward to your appearances because you make us laugh.” I was so stunned/touched by this, I think I stuttered a thank you, resorted to my standby self-deprecating humor bout how that’s the first time I ever heard somebody say they were looking forward to seeing me, we all laughed, I walked away smiling and hadn’t stopped smiling since. Whenever I’m at the neighbors, I am just trying to not be my always awkward self, and I never thought what they might see or take out of the brief exchange because I always just assume my jokes are stupid, that they’re counting the seconds until that awkward neighbor leaves. I always see the worst. I think I’m awkward, I’m always going to be awkward, but that’s not what other people necessarily see. These neighbors don’t know how I see myself.

I pout too often about how I don’t like my weight right now, but I ignore the positive changes I have made.  I was staring at my grocery cart in the check-out line the other day and I couldn’t believe that it was my cart, full of stuff picked out by ME. Two years ago I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you what egg whites were. Or why too much sodium was a problem. Or what almond milk was. Or what Greek yogurt was. and why it was different. Two years ago when I went to the grocery store, I completely ignored the perimeter of the grocery store. I never bought produce. Ever. I bought cookies, crackers, bagel bites, ice-cream, cheez-its, pop-tarts. All I drank was soda, alcohol and the occasional water with Crystal Light. I’m pretty confident that I never, ever, ever hit my suggested veggie intake. Now I fill my cart with egg whites, fat-free Greek yogurt, cranberries, spinach, bananas, strawberries, almonds, carrots. I think and care about things like my veggie intake everyday and make smoothies or small salads to accommodate if I realize it’s low. I pause to dwell on if I am drinking enough water – and sometimes, I even drink more water than recommended. I limit myself to one soda or one Crystal Light a week, and sometimes I go without them.

I get borderline depressed when I look at my bank account and remember how poor I am. But if I frame the situation another way,  I  feel proud that while my bank account doesn’t end with as many zero’s as I’d like it to, I’m living on my own in a new city, paying bills, and am still managing to save something.  When I moved to this city, I lived here for 4.5 months without any income. I’m proud that I managed to make it work and am still here making it work and learning about living on my own. I personally have a lot to learn about how to be an adult and live on my own.

Not only do I tend to have a distaste for where I am in my life and dwell on all the things that I’m presently not, I am guilty of pigeon-holing myself and accepting what I  let myself think I can never be. Make sense? Probably not. I know I hold myself back and don’t take chances because “well, obviously, that’s not for me, that’s for people cooler/more successful/more talented than me. I won’t be able to do that.” It’s sobering to realize I severely underestimate myself and cut myself off from fun things. Shouldn’t I be my own advocate? My biggest  cheerleader? It’s sad to realize I’m always my worst critic – and yes, I know I’m not alone in that. I’m training for a 12 miler in August (!!!!!) which I NEVER thought I’d do. Those kinds of things were obviously for runners only and I can never be a runner because .. hello..look at me, my name is Caitlyn, it’s not in my DNA, I suck at everything forever and ever amen. I’m still not 100% convinced I’ll be able to pull it off but I try to banish those thoughts and just focus on going a teensy bit further than I did yesterday.  I always thought it’d be so cool to be a half-marathoner but never pursued it because of who I thought I was and who I just accept that I am. Lazy, afraid, doomed, terrible at everything,hopeless. Yes, I’m lazy, but I can overcome that. Yes, I walked a nearly-20 minute mile in 7th grade and hated it every second, but why oh why still think about that 10 years later? It was a stupid grade school fitness test, it should have nothing to do with today, and the Caitlyn back then was most definitely not the Caitlyn of now. Thank God.

Really I get so angsty about how I’m not where I want to be, but I don’t stop to think about where I am, compared to where I  have been. Sure it’s not as fast and the results aren’t as sudden as I’d want them to be, but they are there. The littlest of results. Things – good things – will happen if I keep chugging along. Even if it feels like I’m getting nowhere. Good things are there. I just have to pay more attention and readjust what view I’m looking at.

Hear Me Roar

Oh, hey.

boy meets world make it stop

I took a quick vacay from blogging because shooooot I was just worn down. I reactivated Facebook so I’m sucked back into that hole of ‘WILL EVERYONE PLEASE STOP GETTING ENGAGED DECEMBER 21 2012 HAS PASSED THE MAYANS WERE WRONG’, there’s Twitter to make sure everyone knows allllllllll of my opinions on my terrible TV shows, Pinterest to live vicariously through, Instagram which I’m tryingtryingtrying to be better at, and blah. Also work is starting to pick up, and I usually hammer out a post before I get started working and chip away at reading blogs in spare moments… and I just got bogged down and overwhelmed and the club can’t even handle me right now.


That last sentence I typed was a lie. I’ve been going out on weekends with Jenna, the girl from work who I used to swear hated me. Will wonders never cease? Reading my old posts and man..even knowing that in books/movies, the girl character that is ice cold and kinda bitchy to the heroine/narrator is either a) really an icy cold bitch and becomes the mortal enemy to our fair heroine or b) not really ice cold and bitchy it was all a misunderstanding  then they team up, I would have sworn B would never happen with us co-verkers, but here we are, stumbling around the streets laughing about too many vodka/sprites. Is my social life actually on the upswing? Stay tuned for this new development because painful detail is my thing.

shine bright

new motivational sign on cubicle.

The new girl, Alex, who shares my cubicle has the exact same humor as me and so we’re laughing, joking around, talking obsessively about Bravo shows (and what a douchebag Ryan Culberson is on Real Housewives of OC because any 20 something MARINE who gets in a sweet and gracious 64 year old’s face ,an invited guest of your mother-in-law, for no reason deserves to be punched in the face over and over and over SIGH makes me so mad and did that make any sense? no), sending Buzzfeed articles back and forth with subject lines that say things like “Sales meeting prep”, all day long. My boss Sharon and I have such a stellar relationship, she is forever telling the company leadership what a great job I’m doing (puh-leez give me a raise), gives me a lot of freedom with important projects and has so much trust in me,  and we also talk about Bravo shows and what a douchebag Ryan Culberson is and she brings me in books which of course makes her one of my favorite people.

tina piza

I think I have mentioned it but I’m competing in the “Biggest Loser” at work where we weigh in weekly. There’s an overall Loser Winner, who loses the most weight throughout the competition. There’s also weekly rankings for the person who loses the most each week. For the first two weeks, yours truly was dead last.  I’m pretty sure every time I personally was in last it was because I gained weight. Then I won the next two weeks. And was middle of the pack rest of the weeks. Won another week. Once again on the bottom last week. One of the other ‘losers’ said to me ‘Wow, Caitlyn, you sure are a compelling competitor. I can never predict what you do every week!’ Haha. That may sound mean, but she’s the nicest lady and it is kind of funny. The other contestants are all consistent-ish and then there’s hurricane Caitlyn. Up 2 pounds, down 3 pounds, up 2 pounds, down .5 a pound. I am so consistent in my inconsistency. It’s a rare talent.  The competition is halfway over and I’m hoping I can string together a good run. Right now I’m in 4th, which is more impressive than it sounds, considering 7 people are competing.

zombies dotn text

Does anyone watch Pretty Little Liars? I’m watching it on my computer as I write this. This show has so jumped the shark. I used to OBSESS about this show and talk conspiracy theories until the cows came home but now can barely muster up any interest anymore and there’s a whole new crop of creeps I do not care about. Also, if anyone wants to join me in my ‘Aria & Ezra a blackhole of suck’ camp where we sit around and don’t care about Ezria and angrily tweet show producers demanding answers (that I have yet to receive) about why “A” has never, ever done anything to Aria while the other 3 girls are repeatedly put through hell, I’m over here to the left.  Oh you stupid show, I wish I could quit you.

homer treadmill

I finally figured out, with the help of my college roommate Rachel, why my DVD player wasn’t working. It is now set up and I just got Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred and another one of hers I can’t remember. I’m terrified/excited/clinging to relief that SHE CAN’T SEE ME.

iti s law

Someday when I have my own company, I am going to implement a policy where we allot employees with “not in the mood” days. Not in the mood days are when your alarm goes off and you just cannot haul yourself out of bed,  when your alarm goes off and it’s raining (aka it should be illegal to have to get OUT of bed), when you just want to stay in bed and watch Law & Order: SVU marathons all day, or when you are not in the mood to leave your house. For me that’s like everyday but all good things in moderation.

Let’s take a road trip and go here. I may or may not have teared up. THIS GUY IS THE GREATEST.

1 .bagel bites or pizza rolls? i like both, but am staunchly team bagel bites fo life.

2. what places do you want to visit? i have a lot. atlanta (meg & rebekah, i’m coming). miami, hawaii (obv), pittsburgh, san fran (i need to see the full house house), nashville, vegas, nawleans. don’t even get me started on international places.

3. fave fitness DVD?

*the post title is homage to katy perry’s new song which i can not and will not take off repeat. super annoying lyric video ahead.

Looking For: Passion

Hi, my name is Caitlyn and I’m looking for some passion in my life.

Sorry. Got my new profile mixed up with blog post.

I ran into a current student from my alma mater yesterday downtown, and as we were talking, of course the “what do you do?” question came up. I told her, oh I do marketing at a publishing company, I like it, it’s good, blah blah.

She replied “I hope I can be as lucky as you and find something I’m passionate about when I start looking for jobs next year.”

In reply, I think I stood there and blinked at her. Maybe I was on auto-pilot and managed enough to nod. I would be impressed if I managed an all-knowing ‘mmmhmm.’

Passionate? Where oh where did she get passionate from?

The whole walk home I was turning over that word in my head. Why does she think I am passionate? I told her I liked my job. Does liking my job automatically equal passion? Am I actually passionate about it? I didn’t think so. I still don’t think so. I like that we publish books that help people with disabilities and the teachers and professionals who work with them. I like that. Maybe I’m passionate about that aspect of it? I don’t know.  I LIKE marketing, but I wouldn’t ever say I’m passionate about it.

Clearly she doesn’t know what passionate means. But maybe I don’t, either.

Thank God for the trusty I-phone so I didn’t have to wait a single minute to pull up Merriam-Webster.

Definition of PASSIONATE

a : capable of, affected by, or expressing intense feeling

b : enthusiasticardent

I guess that makes sense.


So of course, naturally I thought well what would I say I am passionate about.


I love to read. Thank God, there’s one.

What else…?

Fine, enough about me, let’s look at other people.

I asked my roommates what they were passionate about.

Dana said service even though she hasn’t done a lot of it since graduation. Colleen said Netflix. They both agreed that they were not passionate about their jobs, which made me feel better.

I asked my mom what she thought I was passionate about. She said: reading, spending money when I should be saving and Bravo shows. I asked my 19 year old sister what she thought passion meant.

“It’s what gets you out of bed in the morning.”

That was another way to look at it. But really what gets me out of bed in the morning is the fact that I have to get up.  It’s not an option like it was in college (it shouldn’t have been an option in college, but… was, heh). As much as I’d love to, I can’t lie in bed all day and then putter around my room in my sweatpants and T-shirts.

Right now what gets me out of bed in the morning is that I am paying for a gym and I am – finally – motivated for the first time in my life to lose weight and get in shape.

It’s motivation, but is it passion? I don’t think so, but I don’t really know.

I am actually really looking forward to trying more workouts and exercises. Before, I was monogamous with the treadmill. I *hope* fitness and exercise becomes a passion, but it might not and that’s okay. I don’t think it needs to. I’ll keep doing it anyway. Which brings up yet another question, can you MAKE something be a passion? Prowling around Google land seems to say “no”.

So.many.questions. So.many.different.opinions.

But yet, I still don’t really know what I am passionate about. At 23-years-old-and-361-days, should I?

All I know is….


  1. How do you define “passion” or “passionate”
  2. What are you passionate about?
  3. Is it necessary to be passionate about your job? Or just an extra perk?

*kidding about

A Day in the Life

This probably going to come back to embarrass me that I made this a link-up but I love reading day in the life posts so much (not lying) but then I realized most people probably don’t find them as interesting as I do. I reaaallllllllly love other peoples’ lives and a play-by-play, what can I say. Maybe I should have been an archaeologist. So because I clearly hate everyone who reads this blog, here is mine. It’s probably good material to crawl into bed with at night to help you fall asleep. I’m even more boring that previously thought. Who knew.

3:55 a.m: Sleep cycle app alarm goes off. This is supposedly when I’m in my lightest sleep cycle. Ignore.

4:04: Second alarm goes off. Ignore.

4:08: Third alarm goes off. Ignore.

4:11: Look at my sleep cycle app chart. Sleepily note that I had an okay night sleep. Don’t care.

4:15: Admit defeat.

4:16: Vertical and hating it.

4:17: Mentally pat myself on the back for being soooooooooo on top of things and sleeping in my work-out clothes and packing my work bag the night before.

4:22: Stumble downstairs sounding like an elephant stomping through my silent sleeping house.

4:26: On the road. Bask in the glory of the absence of other drivers. Pout as I hit every red light. Speed when I’m not at every red light because I like to live dangerously.

4:47: Pull into Dunkin Donuts. Hope that the old lady is working because she is so nice and always gives me a free munchkin.

4:48: Discover that the sweet old lady is not working. Order my small mint chocolate chip iced coffee (no cream or sugar) and rejoice when I remember this is cheaper than Starbucks. Put coffee in the cupholder and ignore until after workout.

4:51: Arrive at gym. Stand at the door with other gymgoers, who all happen to be middle-aged and male, waiting for the gym to open.


5:00: They unlock gym door. The men, as is our routine, hold open door for me and stand aside to let me in first. Chivalry is not too dead. I can officially pronounce that 4 days a week I really am “the first one in the gym!” Nice men not pictured.

5:03: Enter the cardio cinema .

j law

the hunger games was on!

5:06-5:48: Treadmill. Hate life. Debate quitting every 20 seconds even while I am doing the walking portion.

5:51- 6:04: Shower. Wonder how much money I am saving myself and my 3 roommates by showering at the gym 4-5 days a week.

6:06: Feel relieved upon discovering that I managed to pack all critical parts of my work outfit. Get dressed. Blow-dry hair until it is ¾ dry because I do not have patience to fully dry it. Put on make-up.

6:32: Exit gym.

6:39: Pull into work parking garage.

6:42: The woman (I think she’s homeless) who sits all day outside my office building addresses me as “princess” for what might be the 8th time in a row. For the eighth day in a row, ponder how exactly I should take that. What is being insinuated?

6:46: Enter office suite (3rd to arrive if you were wondering, you probably weren’t) and sit at Cubicle.

6:47: Feel a little embarrassed that I have not cleaned my desk yet even though I’ve been vowing to for weeks.

6:50: Read blogs (WIAW day is always a good one) and surf the Internet mindlessly.

7:17: Talk to my mom via telephone.

7:27: Eat breakfast and drink coffee despite not really liking it at all. But I need it so I gulp it down anyway.

7:28: Start working. Debate changing out of sneakers (I cantwont drive in heels) into my heels but realize I probably won’t see anyone for another few hours so it doesn’t matter yet.

7:29: Decide I don’t hate you THAT much as to bore you with (believe it or not, even more mundane) details of my work day.

7:30-12:30: Fight off the lazy fairy and am somewhat productive. Realize I haven’t changed out of sneakers yet.

12:30-1:00 Lunch.

1:45: Co-worker sends e-mail about free salads. Free anything is right up my alley.

1:46 I take two.

3:42: Leave work. My commute is never bad but that will never stop me from complaining. I hate driving.

4:08: Arrive home. Mindlessly attempt to unlock house door using office key. Am not successful.

4:12: Wash lunch dishes and prepare the next day’s lunch.

4:16: Hunt for Tupperware with a matching lid.

4:20: Finally. Matching lid.

4:21: Get changed. Back downstairs to microwave dinner.

4:26: Back upstairs with dinner. Read blogs. Surf Internet mindlessly. Eat dinner.

4:49: Do this Tone It Up workout.

5:36: Hate it and love it.

5:37: Repaint nails where they started to chip.

5:40: Watch Friends then King of Queens on TBS. Wish Big Bang Theory was on.

5:45: Debate cleaning and doing laundry. Decide against it.

5:46: Resolve to do it tomorrow. And that is a PROMISE.

5:47: Realize I have promised this for last few days.

6:45: I really should clean. Fine. I hastily run a Chlorox wipe around the bathroom sink.

7:04: Pack gym bag. Surf Internet mindlessly. Affirm how boring my life is now that I am actually thinking about it in increments. Vow to never put you through this again.

7:16: Shuffle piles of clothes and other random weird things from center of floor to the side. Cheerfully contemplate how much better it looks now.

8:06: Realize I should get in bed.

8:33: Get in bed. Marvel that yep, I really do get in bed at this hour now. It feels unnatural. Read or watch TV.

8:57: Turn out light.

8:58-9:50-ish: Toss and turn. Fall asleep eventually.

Is there a most boring life award I can nominate myself for? God I didn’t even try to make myself sound exciting.

Okay fine, pull my arm, I actually made it a link-up (click below) just in case anyone read this SUPER EXCITING day and decided to chronicle their own. I’d love it if you did! Chronicle it all in pictures if you want. If you’ve already written one before, link it! Or link if you want in the future when you have a day you want to chronicle. Maybe your exciting life will be enough to convince me to do something with my own. If you do decide to participate (please), just link back here. thanks for feeding my addiction and sharing your days.


The link-up is weird because wordpress.COM really hates inlinkz. blergh. click below.

The Worth of Happy Birthday Emails

Standby. I just might be on my way to work friends.

I know. I just dropped a bombshell on you. I should back up.

When I first started at this job, my boss Sharon took me around on a tour of our office, which spans the 8th floor (my floor) and the 7th floor. I met two girls on my whirlwind 7th floor tour that seemed my age, which made me hopeful because I am on the perpetual friend hunt. Problem is, I have no reason to ever go down on the 7th floor and our duties ensure we never cross paths. And truth be told, I forgot about them.

Last week, however, I was on our company Intranet page where we have the staff birthdays listed. I saw it was one of those girls’ birthdays so I sent her a friendly happy birthday e-mail. She replied with a nice note that included “I’m embarrassed you’ve been here for a few months and I haven’t stopped by! Want to go out to lunch with us next week?”


Always cool, calm and collected, my reply was something like this:


Okay it wasn’t quite like that. But close.


Three other girls from the 7th floor joined us, and it was great. They’re nice. They live near me. We have a few similar interests. They’re my age (well, all but one who is married and having a baby, but she’s still awesome. We got to make fun of Kim Kardashian’s horrible pregnancy style which will always bond anyone).


And at the end, they said “We’ll definitely have to do this again.” So exciting! It feels so good to think that I’m finally making some headway in regards to fitting in socially here.

That’s enough words. Bring out the Beyonce.



First Solo Work Presentation!

A few days ago in the office, Christine moved. She got promoted a few weeks ago and has left our little hole and moved down the hall into an office! So now I’m all by myself. And for all my complaints about Christine & Jenna whispering, I kinda miss it. Grass is greener, right? Since now that Christine’s gone, I don’t really see anyone. The picture helps you visualize how isolated my little cubicle is. People have to come looking for me to see me as I’m kind of hidden. People wanted to see and talk to Christine. Nobody wants to come see and talk to me (yet! They’ll soon realize they need to come seek out my awesomeness)


My desk is on the other side of the 3/4 wall. *waves*

A week ago a meeting was scheduled  with three different departments. Sharon was scheduled for a conference so she prepared a list of talking points for me to present on. I was so nervous at thought of presenting solo, since I’ve only been here three months, but hoped the talking points gave me enough to go on. THE DAY before the meeting, the head of my department Arlene totally switched up the agenda, essentially voiding Sharon’s talking points she made up for me and added that we would recap all campaigns we’d run from May to mid-November.

Arlene asked me if I’d be okay presenting since “you’ve only been here for maybe half of Sharon’s campaigns.” Half?! Um, try a week. I started in early November..


I called Sharon, who was pissed that they’d make me present on things I wasn’t here for, but gave help from a different timezone as best she could .I frantically made notes, gleaning info from every document I could think to look up. I was so terrified.  I called my mom and asked her to say a prayer.

Cue to ten minutes before the meeting started. I was reviewing my notes for the last time before heading downstairs when Arlene stopped by and asked me to make copies for the meeting.

Again, panic.

Copying isn’t stressful, but trying to make 25 copies in 5 minutes of of 10 different documents that each have 3-6 pages is. In my haste, I forgot to hit the “staple” option so I was frantically trying to separate the piles of paper and staple them.

I wound up being a few minutes late to the meeting and I only had half the amount of papers after the copier ran out of ink and I gave up. Being punctual and prepared are two things I pride myself on so I hated that I was late and that it looked like I was unorganized. I just appeared to be unorganized because I was taking care of Arlene’s shit that she left until the last minute.

Regardless, I killed my part. It was one of those rare presentations where in the middle of it, you realize “Damn…I sound like I know what I’m talking about! This is going really well!” Everyone present from my department congratulated me and said they were impressed by how much I knew (ha!)



Part 5, How Did I Get Here? The Finale

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

Part 4:

My phone rang at my internship one day and it was somebody from the book publishing job asking me to interview. I went out into the hall to resume the conversation and my knees gave out from underneath me as I sank against the wall. Oh thank God.

A week later, I was sitting in a gorgeous boardroom, across from Sharon, the woman who would be my boss if I got hired. In two extraordinary coincidences, she used to work at a company in my small little hometown, the same company my dad used to work at although they hadn’t worked there at the same time. After leaving that company, she ventured to the even smaller town my college was located in. A town that was less than 2,000 people and in the middle of God-knows-where.

I recall sitting there thinking it seemed like fate. What were the odds she’d worked in those two towns?

It wasn’t my best interview. I was so rusty. I went off on a few tangents that were kind of irrelevant. Some of my answers were too long. I left out important skills and important details. But yet, at the end of it she invited me back for a second interview. Thank you God, I was starting to feel hopeful.

I was e-mailing back and forth with the president of my college who, in case you had forgotten, published books with this company. I was also e-mailing his secretary, who also became my friend after I met her at Admissions tour guide training when I was supposed to take her on a tour and pretend she was a prospective parent. At the beginning of my fake tour I told her I was so nervous I was going to throw up on her. Ah, I’m so charming. Something about that statement bonded us.

The president, who gushed about his experience with this company, and the secretary vowed to write me a stellar recommendation letter to be sent off after my interview.

The second interview took place four days later, on a Tuesday. I interviewed with Sharon again, Sharon’s boss who was the director of the department, and Jessica, the HR Director. Feeling way more confident, I sailed through the interview. Jessica told me they had one more second interview on Thursday. If I got the job, I’d get a call on Monday. If I didn’t get the job, I’d get an e-mail by next Friday.

As I got in the elevator after the interview, my eyes welled up. Not only did I need this job desperately, I wanted it so badly.

In the meantime, the president sent off his recommendation letter and I hand-wrote thank you notes.

On Thursday afternoon after returning from a meeting at my internship, I saw I had a missed call and voice-mail from Jessica, the HR Director. She said she wanted to talk to me about the position and to give her a call. Her voicemail was from almost an hour ago.

I immediately called back, got her voicemail, waited 10 minutes and called again.

“Oh I’m headed off to a quick meeting, I’ll call you after it ends in half an hour,” she said.

In agony, I went to fill in the other interns in the corner intern office.

“WHAT COULD THIS MEAN!” I shouted at them as I paced around the room, “She said at earliest I’d hear on MONDAY. Today is THURSDAY. They had another candidate in for a second interview today. Oh God, what if I need to do a third interview? I CAN’T HANDLE THIS. What if the other candidate today was SO good they offered it to them on the spot and they feel so bad for me, they decided to call instead of e-mail? Holy Jesus, what if the other candidate is still there and they want to conference me in on the phone, and have us answer the same questions right then and there in some warped sudden death type tournament? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM? I don’t want to work for a company that pulls such a stunt. SCREW THEM. I am NOT doing that. OH MY GOD WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN? WHAT TIME IS IT? IS IT TIME FOR HER TO CALL BACK YET?

The other interns just laughed at me and told me they had a good feeling about this. I went back to my desk at the front of the office, where I was the intern/receptionist. I called my dad. I called my mom. I went on Pinterest. As it was almost the time she had estimated she’d call me back, I began to shake violently even though I wasn’t cold. Why was she calling earlier than she said she would? What did this mean?

When my phone began to ring, I answered on the first ring. So much for not looking desperate.

“Hi Caitlyn, this is Jessica with XX Company. How are you?”

“I’m great, how are you Jessica?” Translation: TELL ME WHY YOU’RE CALLING YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY JESSICA.

“Good, good, glad to hear it. Well I’m calling to offer you the position.”


We talk a few more minutes about salary and such. I tell her I’ll call her back tomorrow with my decision, even though I could have accepted right then and there.

The next day, I decided it would look too eager if I called in the morning. So I called at 1:30 to accept. And in typical Caitlyn fashion, making my acceptance call did not go easily.

The doorbell rings for the first time in days. Of course, that’s just how things work, right? I go to answer it. It’s the Staples guy with five large packages on a pulley-type thing. I fling open the door and gesture for him to come in. He overhears me negotiating my salary up $250. So, wherever he is now, that Staples guy is armed with the precious, all-important knowledge of my salary.

I’m scrawling my name in acceptance of the Staples packages and then turn away, thinking he’ll just drop them somewhere and see himself out.

“Excuse me, Miss?” The Staples guy says.

I ignore him, as now Jessica, the HR Director, is prattling on about benefits and I want to take notes. Seriously, Staples guy?

“Excuse me, Miss?! I need to talk to you.” The Staples guy pesters.

I put the phone on Mute, Jessica still chattering away, and now I’m super annoyed at this poor guy.

“What?” I hiss. Normally I’m super nice to delivery guys since I always assume people are rude and dismissive to them. But I just could not believe he had to come in the middle of this important phone call. And of all the times I have signed for and received packages, now is the time when they need to talk to me?! Sheesh.

“Where do you want me to put these?” The Staples guy says, gesturing to his pulley.  In hindsight, I realize that this was a very sweet question. Poor guy was just trying to be helpful. But in that moment, I was exasperated. The normal delivery guys just plopped them wherever the heck they wanted and booked it out.

“Oh my God, I don’t care, wherever,” I whisper, and turn back around, trying to catch what Jessica’s saying.

“How does that sound?” Jessica asks.

How does what sound? Oh shit, oh shit.

“Good!” I chirp, “That sounds great.” God I hope I didn’t just agree to some whacked out benefits plan or a start date of tomorrow.

“Excuse me, Miss?” And it’s the damn Staples guy again.

“Great,” Jessica says at the same time, “Now about your start date…”

Seriously? At this point if I weren’t so flustered, I’d start laughing at my luck.

“Can you hold on?” I say to the Staples guy.

“Caitlyn? Are you talking to me? Is this a bad time? Oh I’ve been talking so much, but you should have said something,” Jessica says, forgetting that I was the one to call her.

“NO!” I practically yell at her. “Now is fine.”

The Staples guy comes inching closer with a clipboard. I scan it quickly. We’re eligible for some exclusive new deal or something.  To this day I don’t know what it said. We could have been the beneficiaries of lifetime free Staples supplies and I didn’t take the time to read his clipboard. Oh well.

I wave him away with Jessica still chattering away in my ear about my introductory period.

He asks, “So you don’t want to place an order for this exclusive deal?”

I shake my head, wishing he’ d go away. I am usually a good multi-tasker, I just cannot have two conversations at once.

I give Jessica dates and the poor Staples guy – finally – turns to leave.

Relief & joy abounds.

I started my new job two weeks later. My last weeks at my internship were awesome. I didn’t let anything bother me. I was leaving soon and moving on to an amazing new venture. It was so nice to have the security of a job and to be able to focus on learning everything I could while still there & get the most out of it. Although the internship sucked for the most part, I learned an incredible amount, not just about the field I was in, but about being a full-time team member, a company’s culture and how to work with different personalities. I wouldn’t be in my current job without it, so I am immensely grateful.

I love everything about what I do. I’m having so much fun (I just need to make friends here) and I love that there’s room for promotion and growth. Definitely I foresee myself here for a few years. When I think about the crazy leap I took, moving to new city with no income and stability, and think about how beautifully it all worked out, I realize I am extraordinarily lucky. This venture could not have worked out any more perfectly.

THE END! I’m impressed I somehow drew this out into FIVE parts. I hope my long-winded rambling story helps in your own job search (if you are in the job search, I’m sorry. I know it sucks) or at least made you smile.