Last night, I dreamed that I was sitting in a really big sunny office for my Google interview and for some reason, Song was with me. The interviewer was asking me for my resume and it took me a bit to find it. Once I found the resume and the interview finally got started, Song wanted to sit in my lap and kept taking things off the interviewer’s desk and asking me about them. I finally started to get a bit flustered and told Song that this was not my desk and I didn’t know the stories of the items on the nice lady’s desk. I concluded that if she really wanted to know about the funny erasers, pens, pencils, a funny brain, and other odd items, that she should ask our nice interviewer. So this is what Song did. The interviewer and I spent the next fifteen minutes comparing stories about similar public embarrassment situations with our kids and it took quite a while to get back on track. I finally asked Song to run down to the cafeteria and get any flavor ice cream she could think of. As she skips away mumbling something about rainbow sprinkles to herself, the young lady shuffles papers and says that the interview is over and we should go get some coffee. I’m a bit astonished at this considering we really didn’t get all that far with the constant interruptions.
As we leave for the coffee shop, she asks me how long I’ve been wanting to work for Google. I slightly shrug noncommittally and tell her that I’ve always wanted a job that allowed me to create large scale positive change for my brothers and sisters without a voice. I want to be a part of a company that does not marginalize or discriminate against any cross section of humanity due to their differences. She nods and we open the door to the coffee shop.
The scene shifts and I am behind the counter of the coffee shop during a normal busy day. Moments later, my boss rushes in and says that we need to get things ready for Steve Jobs to drop by. I stare open mouthed at my boss and finally ask what we need to get ready. He stares back and tells me that I’ll figure it out.
About a half an hour later, Steve walks in out of the rain with a young lady who looks a lot like one of my Google interviewers. They are being followed by a nerdy teen who is trying to get Steve to understand the exquisite craftsmanship of a newly released Android device. Steve is trying to be nice, however it’s clear that he’s done with the conversation.
I give the boy a look and he heads toward a group of tables in the corner followed by the sound of the Twitter whistle.
As I hand steve a cup of our strong coffee, my boss steps in and tells me not to forget the special sugar. I ask Steve if he wants sugar and he nods slightly saying that he doesn’t usually, however he would be willing to try the special sugar. Steve takes a sip of the coffee, waits a moment and says, it’s not Starbucks, and this is ok. He takes another sip, waits a moment and asks if we have anything like peanuts to snack on. I walk to the back and rummage in my bag for something and can only find some peanuts that I threw in my bag from the airplane. Strangely, I have a lot of formal clothing with me. A loud clang is heard as my Irish whistles fall out of my bag. I hand the peanuts to Steve and he smiles gratefully while the lady who accompanied him says softly, you shouldn’t be eating those. She looks at me and says, I didn’t know that you play Irish whistle? I tell her that I’m trying to learn and we get in to a brief conversation about whistle makers. The dream ends just as I am about to shake Steve’s hand and my 4:00 AM alarm goes off.
I guess this dream tells me that I’m slightly stressed over the upcoming interview at Google and don’t want to pass any negative feeling on to the kids. Please send good thoughts my way for my day at the Googleplex on Friday.
