...but a suit jacket was involved, and I was slighly less rumpled, and there were less toothpaste spots hovering in front of me. So really, nothing like this. (I really hope I didn't have this look on my face during.)
It went well. Except for the hyperventilating somewhere in the middle.
Picture trying to steer a Ford Explorer with bad tires down a sloping, ice-covered driveway. Toward traffic. You imagine that at some point, as the sweat pools in all of your crevices, your foot will miscalculate the pressure required for the break pedal, and you will start to slide....
That's about what happens when someone asks that "tell me about yourself" question. I hit a slick patch, and suddenly, I'm hammering down the hill about a mile a minute toward an oncoming Mack truck and Just. Can't. Stop.
Now I need to send my suit to the drycleaners, because it smells like interview fear-today's on top of the reactivated stench leftover from the interview in August. (I only have one suit.)
But back to the "it went well" part...yeah. It went pretty well. I said some smart things. I asked genuine questions. I liked the people, and we had good, natural conversation. Of course, as is my post-interview habit, I rehashed every single word I said all the way home, and it all sounded like crap in retrospect. It was a long drive. I had time to think of many, many better ways to answer those questions. That crazy girl in the runaway Explorer who is yammering eloquently about skill-based assesment activities and state standards and gesticulating very sincerely to her dashboard?