I get back to my apartment and walk up all the stairs to the fourth floor, at this point I am almost crying from a. pain, b. being so out of breath, and c. general patheticness. I open the door, get a drink, go to my room, take two Advil cold and sinus and two Ibuprofen and promptly pass out.
When I wake up approximately four hours later I am feeling slightly better, I can breath through one nostril and my muscle aches are dulled. I thank (insert your deity of choice here), get out of bed and start getting ready for my interview. Did you remember that the last post was not even the whole story? Because it was so so not. It gets much better...
I somehow manage to shower, do my hair and makeup, get dressed in my grown-up clothes, and get directions to the location of my interview before the almost crippling fatigue hits me. I literally tip over onto my bed mid Google mapping. Not one to be daunted though, I do the responsible thing, grab my bag, walk downstairs, get in my car, and proceed to enter traffic in my vertigod state.
Once in the car with the radio on it becomes quite evident why my coordination and balance are even more off than usual, my ears are so plugged that I can’t really hear anything. Awesome. At this point though I’m already in my car and were I to turn back I would have to go back up all of those stairs, and really, driving in a semi lucid state on 465 seems like the better option.
I drive along scenic 38th street until I get to the ramp for 465; it is then that I realize I don’t know if I am supposed to go north or south, I choose north. I choose wrong. I do a fun little loopy thing and get going the right way; all goes surprisingly smoothly the rest of the trip. I arrive at my destination and pull into a parking lot labeled “visitor parking.”
At this point I’m feeling pretty darn good about myself, I have navigated Indy and made it here safely all while my body and senses are actively conspiring against me. I enter the building closest to the lot and find myself in a vestibule with one new door. It is locked. I look around a bit trying to figure out what to do but am baffled. I decide to call my interviewer, even though, if you’ll remember, I can’t really hear. He informs me that I am across the street from where I am supposed to be, parallel to the building if you will, I don’t have time to contemplate the irony though because I am only about three minuets early and need to get to the right place.
I walk across the street to the other building and literally jump and do a little scream. Because some genius put this thing right by the entrance! Now let me tell you something about this fake coyote, its eyes, they move! As does it’s body in the wind. It was windy! Remember that all my senses at this point are off as well. Basically, I thought this was the end. I thought I had made it so far and now it was all going to end with me being mauled to death by a coyote in the middle of Indianapolis.
But then I realize the coyote is not moving towards me. Additionally it looks a little like plastic. Additionally I feel like an idiot. I walk to the door, meet my interviewer, and proceed to have a relatively normal interview considering the fact that I am probably yelling due to my slight deafness and I likely sound like Fran Drescher. They must have liked something about me though (or possibly they just felt very sorry for me) because I got the internship. I don’t know if I will be taking it, but a successful endeavor nonetheless.
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