Not your standard[ized] test

Whew, mystery solved. Thank you for the message.

Hey, I've made it a week! A week! And right now I can smell smoke wafting down the hallway. The roommate has inexplicably taken to smoking in the bathroom... I can't say the craving is gone, but I am no longer a raving psychotic thinking only about cigarettes and nothing else.

I had dispatch testing in a northern suburb tonight. It was ridiculous. Two and a half hours and I honestly have no idea how I did. Seriously. I wouldn't be surprised if someone told me I didn't answer even one question correctly.

It was the most random and confusing testing process I have ever seen. I've taken my fair share of dispatch tests, and other pre-employments tests, and generally, I do fine. Generally, I get somewhere around 98% correct. Not only that, but I walk out assuming I did better than most of the other applicants in the room. Not so tonight. Modesty aside (or altogether gone), I know that when I take a general knowledge/intelligence test in a room full of your standard job applicants, I'm going to do better than at least 90% of them. This was the exception.

But hey, at least this time I don't really care. I know I don't want to live up there. It couldn't even be considered a suburb really, it's too far from the city. For that matter, I don't really want to drive up there for work. So, if I get my letter saying that I answered every single question incorrectly, I'll laugh, and move on...

I'm interviewing at the Hyatt tomorrow. That should be interesting. I applied for a position online and received a call to set up an interview 30 minutes later. There was almost no information in the posting, no salary range, nothing. It could be a huge waste of time, but I've got nothing but time to waste.

*Sarah*

Bright sunshiney day

It is. My twentieth floor view is lovely today. Sun shining over buildings and cars and reflecting off snow and ice. Purdy.

Well, no cigarettes still...

I ran for 40 minutes last night, watched Buffy, ate two bowls of cheesy potatoes, and picked up Rusty from the airport.

And, uh, whoever has been reading my diary on the Charter server in Minnesota, would ya mind leaving me a message? It would be much appreciated.

Adam, if it's you, just let me know. I won't be pissed. It's an online diary; they can be found.

*Sarah*