Hi all!
No dilly dallying this time. Let's just crack on shall we.
May 19th, 2013.
I'm sitting at my computer as the realization crashes down on me. My last chance to interview for Jan 2014 intake is the very next day and I'm not even close to prepared.
I run through the house like a woman possessed. Straight to the desktop computer with the printer attached ready to print out directions to this strange place I've never been. My mother, startled by my frantic sprint down the hall, comes to investigate. As I type the details into the journey planner I explain to her my situation.
"You're not going, are you?"
I turn slowly in my chair like a Bond villain.
"You have class tomorrow, don't you?" She stares at me pointedly.
I pretend like I forgot completely and say something as ridiculously suspicious as "Oh, silly me!". Apparently completely convinced she leaves the room. I turn back to the computer and, without a thought about school or any other commitments, press print on the directions.
In between trying to decipher the instructions and panicking, I checked the blog post again and again. One thing that worried me every time was what we were supposed to have on us.
A copy of our application form. Printed and signed.
But I hadn't applied yet. I rushed over to the Disney International Programs website, found the apply button and- huh?
The first page informed me that I could only progress to the next page if I had been told to do so by an interviewer.
Months later I would find out that you were supposed to email recruiting to register your interest and they would direct you to the application. At the time I felt like a dog chasing its tail.
Can't interview without application. Can't apply without permission from interviewer. Can't get permission until you meet interviewer. Can't interview without application. Can't apply without permission from interviewer. I'm getting dizzy just thinking about it.
So I emailed recruiting. Only to realize minutes later that at the time it was still the weekend in Florida. And the interview was on Monday here. Meaning if I did indeed get an answer to my desperate email it would be in the wee small hours of Tuesday morning. Around 12 hours too late to be of use.
What did I do, say you? I printed out everything I could. Copies of my driver's license, resume, proof of address. Anything I could think of that might be even minutely useful I printed it. And then I waited. I had done all that I could to prepare in the few hours I'd known.
With open eyes during a completely sleepless night I waited. Morning came and I was no where close to confident. The sun had risen on my judgement day and I had no weapons, no training. Yet, into battle I went.
- Lily
Tune in tomorrow as I regale the tale of my war wounds. Don't worry it has a (sort of) happy ending.
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