disastrous interview

I had two inter­views today, one of which was­n’t real­ly an inter­view, and the oth­er of which was a dis­as­ter.  I start­ed talk­ing and then I start­ed think­ing, “Shut up, shut up, for good­ness’ sake, Rachel, shut up,” but I kept talk­ing.  He asked all sorts of ques­tions that I did­n’t know how to answer (e.g., “Why did­n’t a law firm hire you last year?”), and he told me that my writ­ing sam­ple is on a top­ic that make peo­ple’s eyes glaze over (Burmese refugees are ter­ri­bly bor­ing, I guess).  He seemed like a great guy, and I would love to work for him, but I don’t think the feel­ing was mutu­al.

Yeah, I’m pret­ty sure I’m not going to get a job there.