On interview nerves

Today was my second interview with Gaba, and I felt nervous enough to vomit. Luckily I didn't vomit all over the laptop, even though two minutes before the interview, that felt like a serious concern. I'm lucky that thinking on the spot is something that I'm relatively good at, because role-playing lessons given no notice at all with the feeling that I had to get it right, lest all my hopes and dreams come crashing down, crushing me into a pulp, is enough to make anyone's mind go completely blank. The stakes aren't just high, they're practically massive. I'm pretty much thrusting my life goal in the hands of these people, hoping they will take a chance with me despite the paper work being more of a hassle and my total lack of experience. Knowing that and holding it together for 50 minutes without letting the facade crack even once is tough work.

Eternally grateful that the webcam was only filming me from the shoulders up, as my hands were freaking the fuck out.

It would seem I did pretty well though. The interviewer told me that I had an aptitude for teaching, commended me for staying calm in all situations (because I messed up a little in the role-playing exercises, before managing to steer them back on course, all while my head was going "Oh my god, shit shit shit, I'm going to die"), and that there was no doubt whatsoever about my English ability. He went on to say that if they should offer me a position, it would come down to supplying documentation from my international school in Sweden, my high school in Liverpool, and KTH to support our claim for the Immigration Bureau in order to get the visa. Now, I'm calm about the first two, but I may have stretched the truth a little when describing what percentage of my architecture education was done in English when I said roughly 60% during my first interview. I know, I know, it was stupid, but I panicked. I needed them to consider me. Besides, every single course book was in English. We had some English lecturers. I presented one of my projects in English to one of the teachers who didn't speak much Swedish. My thesis project was submitted in both English and Swedish. I don't know if I can get the school to sign off on 60%, but if I could get them to sign off on the education being in both English and Swedish, without specified amount, I think I'm home. At least that's something I don't need to do now, now all I can do is wait to see if I get offered the job or not. That essentially means that I'm sitting around refreshing my email every two minutes while rocking back and forth and staring blankly into space, contemplating my fate.

Please want me. Please want me. I don't know what I'll do if they don't.