You Can't Always Get What You Want

About 10 days ago, I went into Anthropologie (in Buckhead) for an interview. (Anthropologie is my favourite "I wish I was pretentious and rich enough to shop here" store. The large boutique is the aesthetic ideal when it comes to clothes: classy, sophisticated, feminine, and trendy, yet classic; the kind of pieces that will never go out of style. Check it out at www.anthropologie.com ) It was a group interview, and so I was one of four girls who pledged their undying love and obsession with fashion, specifically Anthropologie's. I left the interview feeling a little disappointed, but who was I kidding? I knew that to interview at such a store was like trying to swim to a sinking ship. The other three girls had been in retail for four, five, or six years, two of them working in management, and all having either completed a degree or in process of completing a degree in fashion and interior design; all three of them were hoping to by hired by Anthropologie and not retire until they died. My only P.R. experience was working as a hostess, which I quit after one month. I said in the interview that I didn't want to have anything to do with retail after I finished college, no, I want to help starving children in Africa (except worded a little less dramatically, of course). I slowly saw my chances drain before my eyes, though they were merely imagined to begin with. Jennifer, the girl who interviewed us, closed the interview by saying that we would receive a phone call in the next day or two if we got the job, and if not, then we would receive a letter in the mail.

The first few days, I kept my phone with me at all times, knowing that I really shouldn't get my hopes up at all. But, I'm naive like that. After two or three days, I knew that I hadn't gotten the job, and I was a bit disappointed, but it wasn't that big of a surprise. At least, that is what I tried to tell myself. I don't really want to admit how badly I wanted that job. I reason that it's too far of a drive, that it would be difficult working with wealthy snobs all day, that it isn't related to my major, and the voices in my head drone on. And ever since I've gotten back from Tennessee, I have searched any and every piece of mail, looking for my letter that will close the deal.

I woke up this morning to the sound of my phone ringing. It was an Atlanta number that I didn't recognize, but since I have changed phones several times in the past few months, I assumed it was someone whom I hadn't put in my phone book again. To my delightful surprise, its Jennifer calling. "Are you still interested in the job?" She says with a cute laugh.

Oh am I!

But I said as composedly as I could, that I would call her back tomorrow and let her know.

This is quite a problem. I wasn't supposed to get this job! Not to mention, I was just hired this past week by an artsy boutique in Marietta to work on the production side of operations. (Piecing together purses and such). I can work as much as I like, whenever I like. And, I'm making $10/hr. Not too shabby.

Well, I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do, but I've sorted it out something like this...

I'll work during the week (probably the two days that I don't have classes) at "Because We Can" (the shop in Marietta) and then work on the weekends at Anthropologie. I get the best of both worlds, without overstretching myself. How's that for having your cake and eating it too?

Needless to say, I've been incredibly happy, though a little bit overwhelmingly surprised, today.