Remember at the last minute that I have a candidate coming in. Why do I schedule interviews in the morning?
Think about putting on lipstick. Forget to do that. Look around my office to see if there's anything I need to sort, like a pile of receipts from my purse. Throw the receipts in the gallon-size Ziploc bag in my drawer. Put yesterday's water bottles in my recycling bag. Wonder why my drawer smells so bad? Try to remember to look in the drawer for rogue potpourri, broken perfume bottle or laundry soap. Overpowering. Fill two water bottles.
Answer the phone. Visit with co-worker. Greet candidate. Serve coffee. Ask candidate what they want in their next job, why they're leaving the current job and how much money they make. Make private notes in my head about things people shouldn't do or say in an interview.
Show the candidate out of the office because one wall is painted bright orange and one wall is painted bright purple and my office is the furthest from the front door, so no one can find their way through the cubicle farm between the rivers of color. Wash my hands. Look at my hair and wonder for the 53073,3425.0534,343th time if I should cut it a little shorter and also wonder why it's so frizzy.
Check Twitter, check LinkedIn. Eat oatmeal, maybe. Put our logo on a candidate's resume and say out loud, "Stop formatting your stupid resumes, people!" Listen to the Monkees. Sing along. Realize my office door is open. Look outside.
Bird! Squirrel! Should I Twitter something?
Walk around the office and look at people. Consider candy from the dish. Pick up candy. Put candy back.
Go back to my desk to continue reformatting a resume. In frustration, clear their formatting and start from scratch. Count their bullet points. Curse Bill Gates, Wordstar and Word Perfect. Bah. Check Google Reader for blog updates. Too many to read, put that off until later.
Call several candidates. Talk someone off the ledge. Get up for a tissue because the box is on the table due to a crying unemployed woman. She's sweet. I should call her and see how she's doing. Eat an orange.
Talk to co-worker about running, lack of running, upcoming runs and how poorly prepared and/or lazy we are. Call sweet candidate. She's fine. Check the weather. Talk to a friend. "What are you doing?" Skype, make a list, get up and look in the fridge. Charge my phone. Buckle down and call the candidate I don't want to talk to.
Look in the fridge. Think about whales. Wander. Look at Facebook.
Answer all the emails from the emails I sent out the afternoon prior. Everyone answers at once. Make notes, scan a document, random thought. Copy comments into database, call people back, comb my hair, schedule interviews. Weasel my way onto a employment panel at a networking event. Call people. Read resumes. Check my email. Pull my hair into a ponytail. Answer questions about interviewing for a candidate's second job interview through another vendor. Feel smug when he tells me I 'geek' interview tips.
Shake my head.
Shut my door, turn on the radio. Send out emails to update candidates and reach out to candidates who have recently found jobs. Do you like it? Do you hate it? You hate it! Yay! I have 10 jobs you might like more! Drink water. Look outside.
Put on my coat, put my phone in my purse. Leave the office after I turn off the television no one else remembers to turn off. Go back upstairs and get what I forgot. Walk to the car. Go home.