Spoiler alert: I made it out alive.

For those of you following along in my little day to day adventures (ie, my Twitter feed) you may have seen that I went on an interview last week.

This was a very liberating experience for me, because not only did I have to interview (which I love doing) but I had to show up at their office, which is 1.25 hours away from the city.

Now the thing is, I don’t drive.

I mean, I will if I have to, and I have a license with a horrible picture of me on it, but generally, I let the Husband drive.

riding a motorcycle

Sometimes we even take the motorcycle, which I’m fairly certain is safer than me driving a car.

(This is because every time I drive he starts panicking and yelling about people I almost hit and I don’t even know what people he’s REFERRING to and when I tell him that he gets even more upset… Also, to be fair, I have gotten in my fair share of accidents.)

Well, I was a bit nervous about driving out there, but I figured – what could possibly go wrong?! I’m a 27-year-old, independent woman and I can drive to the suburbs by myself, darnit! With that empowered attitude, I jumped in the car, and off I went into morning rush hour traffic.

It was all going well (only one close call with a bus!) until I had to turn into the office complex. You see, I almost missed the right hand turn and so I had to slam my brakes in order to crank the wheel enough to make the turn into the parking lot. I may or may not have jumped the curb a bit and almost ran into the huge sign for the building, but don’t worry, there was no one standing on the sidewalk so it really wasn’t a big deal.

Well, then when I parked the car I heard a small rattling sound… kind of like an empty can rolling around underneath the car. I sort of figured that may be a problem, but I was in interview prep mode (scrolling through Twitter) so I couldn’t be bothered to think about the health of my car.

… a few hours later the interview was over and I jumped back in my little Corolla. 

Well, the rattling can sound was still there whenever I accelerated or braked.

So basically, all the freakin’ time in Chicago traffic.

(Why was there even traffic at noon on a Thursday?! WHY?!)

So then I call the Husband to tell him about the interview and also that our car was probably falling apart.

Me: … so you see it’s just a little rattling noise…

Him: WHAT? YOU BROKE THE CAR?

Me: No it’s probably not broken but this noise is a little disconcerting…

Him: You drive the car once in 2 years and now it’s making noises?

Me: Well only when you start or stop it.

::background noise of a can rattling::

Him: WAS THAT THE NOISE?

Me: YES! Exactly. See, it’s annoying, right?!

Him: Why is it that loud?! ::blah blah blah bunches of questions about whether the car was driving normally or not.::

Me: I’m sure it’s just a loose part somewhere. I’m more concerned about the fact that this car is probably going to randomly start accelerating.

Him: Oh yeah, I forgot about that warranty thing, we really need to get the car looked at.

Me: Don’t worry, I’m well behind the car in front of me, just in case I randomly gain speed. Wait a second, why is this GPS telling me to get off at an exit? And I don’t know why it told me to take this expressway to begin with…

Him: Where are you?

Me: I have no idea, I’m just following what the GPS says to do.

Him: I’m sure the GPS is right.

Me: Well why would it tell me to get off the expressway so far north of the city? Uh oh… wait a second, does the ‘home’ button not lead us to our apartment?

Him: What?! Why would you press the home button? Put in our address!

Me: WELL I WANTED TO GO HOME SO I PRESSED HOME! Why would there be another address for ‘Home’?!

Him: I haven’t changed that address since I bought the GPS and lived in the suburbs!

Me: Ohmygosh I’m lost. I’m definitely lost. 

Him: Just type in a new address to the GPS..

Me: I’m DRIVING! Oh no, the GPS is dying.

Him: Plug it in!

Me: I can’t multi-task well! Plus it’s raining out. Which reminds me, while I was interviewing I realized that I have a huge chunk of hair that was wavy in the back of my head and now they’re going to call me kink-head and that’s super embarrassing.

Him: I really have to get back to work.

I learned quite a few lessons through this experience: Use Google Maps (instead of a GPS); make sure all sections of hair are equally straight before an interview, be careful with those right hand turns,and  don’t call my husband for any sort of sympathy because he’ll just blame me for everything that goes wrong when I’m driving a car.

Ah, adventures in job searching!

Cheers!

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