There is an exorbitant luxury to the interviewing process. Each city means a flight,a hotel, eating out, and new places--all chances to try on the jet-setting lifestyle some of our business-school friends from college might know more about.
Add to that the perpetual asceticism of the med student budget and suddenly I feel...like a queen! No, an empress! Look, I have two beds, both neat and tidy with fluffy pillows. Here-a huge TV with cable programming. A bathroom that is always pristine, with little folded towel shapes and miniature toiletries to sample. Sometimes it feels like I've never stayed in a hotel before, such is the wonderment of it all.
Yet for all this "living the life," interviewing is lonely. You're traveling alone; no one will watch your bag while you go to the bathroom without thinking you're a terrorist, so take that with you. While TV is nice, they won't ask how your day went. I find myself on Facebook endlessly, hoping for a glimpse of life beyond the hotel doors.
Despite the need to prepare and research programs before the interview, when I arrive I want to do one thing: take off my pants and spread my stuff around the room, then take a nap. I could sleep for ages, the empty, bland luxury a warm cocoon around me.
Instead, there are perpetual worries:
-am I dressed appropriately?
-will I find the offices in time?
-do I sound like an idiot?
-am I laughing too much?
-am I telling too many stories?
-am I being too quiet?
At the end of the day, all I want is to curl up with a stiff drink and someone to cuddle, but at the moment I'm out of men and gin. Maybe next week.