It's really not pretty.
|Not actually where I was, but I drove by it enough times trying to find parking. via|
I was 45 minutes late.
Now, for someone who absolutely detests when others are late- this was a big deal. My entire moral system was crumbling. How can I show these people that I'm dependable? How do they know that they can rely on me? How will I get this job in the face of all these other applicants who are most likely ON TIME? How will we pay our bills? On and on and on.
It certainly doesn't help that the CD Mr. E put in the car to pump me up for the interview is a soundtrack- complete with suspenseful music, tracks 7-10. It doesn't help that I'm fairly sure this part of LA was birthed into this world grimy and run-down. The one way streets? The aggressive drivers? The sights and sounds of downtown? The creaking in the backseat I'm know is just junk left over from the move but sounds like my car is breaking down?
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Of course I called ahead. Of course I had my GPS with me. And this was the only thing I had on the agenda today- so I was free as a bird to cower in my little apartment with the dog as soon as it was over. Which is basically what I'm doing.
Why, oh why, did an introvert and directionally-challenged individual like myself move to LA county?
Stupid, stupid, love.