Should I add wearing a pair of Converse low tops on a job interview to my bucket list?

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One day I want to walk into a job interview wearing a pair of Converse low tops. I haven’t considered what sort of outfit I’d wear with them; I suppose that means this pipe dream is half-baked. I’d probably be interviewing at a marketing or advertising firm so I think I’d have to go with an Ellen DeGeneres vibe: new black jeans, a crisp button up shirt and a blazer.

With my low tops. I think I’d probably spring for a new pair because wearing a new pair makes me feel chipper and it’s good to feel chipper when going on a job interview.

Anyway, I’d walk into the reception area where the receptionist would greet me with, “Welcome to the Mandrien Consulting Group; how can I help you?”

“I’m Cardiogirl; I have an interview with Julian Banks.”

“Ah yes. Have a seat please, Mr. Banks will be right with you.”

And that’s when I would start second guessing myself. I’d start to sweat but wouldn’t dare take off the blazer since armpit stains do not scream success. Then I’d start to worry about my most dreaded interview question: Where do you see yourself in five years?

Gah! I have no idea where I’ll be in five years. Alive? At my goal weight? Breathing down 50? Working at a job I can deal with so I’m bringing in money to pay the mortgage?

Hang on. If this is just a pipe dream why do I have to be neurotic about it? I know. It’s who I am; I can’t even dream big without stressing out. With that new mindset, I’d like to walk in cold, with my low tops, and just casually answer Julian’s questions.

I’d lean back in the interview chair, stretch my legs out and cross them at the ankles. “Thanks for meeting with me Julian. Can I call you Julian? Great. Thanks for your time, Julian. Now what, exactly, does this job entail?”

I’d go totally stream of consciousness with my answers: “That is a great question, Julian. I’m not sure where I see myself in five years. I’d like to be at my goal weight and I’m hoping my kids will outgrow their allergies so I can get a cat but beyond that, I’m open for suggestions.”

“What can I offer your company? I think the real question here is what can your company offer me?”

I also like to think, in this pipe dream, that I’d be totally cool when Julian began to berate me and then called the secretary to see me out.

I’d stand up, shoot my cuffs and say, “Goodbye, Julian. We really aren’t a good match.” I’d turn away and then look back over my shoulder as I said, “When you get your shit together, give me a call.”

Now that would be an awesome way to end a job interview.

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