So, you have a job interview today, right? (Maybe, but I definitely do.)

Here’s how the whole thing goes.

You wake up, feeling AWESOME. I’ve got this, you say to yourself! This job is MINE! I was born for it! WOO!

Then, you start to doubt yourself once you’re fully lucid. You start to think, but…what if my hands are sweaty? What if I don’t say the right thing? Then, paranoia sets in.

OHMIGOSH WHAT IF MY PANTS RIP OR MY RESUME GETS DIRTY OR THE INTERVIEWER HATES WOMEN OR I FORGET TO PUT ON PANTS ALTOGETHER?!

Yup.

Then, you eventually go into this stage of resignation, with a hint of hope.

…Well, at the very worst, I won’t get it, and I’ll be no worse off. Maybe I’ll kick ass today, though!

Then, you actually get in the car/take the bus/train or begin walking there.

And you start to sweat.

Awesome.

So, you hopefully find the right place, remembered to wear clothes, and you have your resume, references, and all that jazz. You find the right guy. Now, time to do your thing. You’ve got this. What do normal people do at these things?!

First, the HAND SHAKE. I cannot capitalize it enough. Because it is THE. HAND. SHAKE. It says more about you than just about anything! They all say so! No sweaty palms. No weak dead-fish. No broken-bones-handshake, either. No. Firm, solid, good handshake, and a good look in your potential employer’s eye.

Okay. Smooth.

Sit down. Breathe. Remember to breathe. You are confident, cool, and classy. You are smart, capable, and knowledgeable. You. Will. Succeed.

(I was really just looking for an excuse to use this .gif)

The interview passes in a blur. Maybe the interviewer is an asshole, maybe they’re the coolest person in the world.

Maybe they remind you of your old sports coach or that one aunt that always mentions how skinny you are and how you need to eat more. Maybe they’re even like your last boss. Or, maybe they’re like somebody else entirely.

Then, you leave.

You’re exhausted. You feel a mix of triumph (WOO DONE!) and total deflation (Oh god, I probably did this-and-this-and-that wrong, I’m never going to win in life ever).

And then you go home and eat massive amounts of food, write a thank you note to the interviewer for giving you the opportunity, and then you fall into a massive coma made of a mix of fear, relief, and nervousness.

Done.