It was a sunny day, there were Moscow-like traffic jams from the roadworks, and I was walking back from the town centre, burdened by a bottle of milk and some cereal. Cars flooded the streets, they did not move. Everybody was rushing to get back home. After all, it was Friday. For once I felt happy that I didn’t own a car.
It was hot and humid. With a feeling of tired contentment, I strolled back to the university with not a care in the world, pondering about things that a 20 year old design student might ponder about. There was a prolonged moment of silence, followed by a temperamental din raised by the cars that roared past me on my journey home. Everybody was knackered, I was knackered. My phone rang. Recruiters have a knack of choosing the most inconvenient time to decide to contact you. I almost didn’t answer it...
I couldn’t hear the guy. I thought it was spam, but the guy persisted. He called me back, he emailed me, and he told me the interview will continue this upcoming Monday. He must’ve forgot that this upcoming Monday is a bank holiday.
How I hate interviews, especially phone interviews. Who doesn’t!
$root - whoami dumbfounded dimwit
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