Oh. My. Gah.

So my phone interview with Big Internet Company went well enough that they gave me an editing test, which I just finished. I feel stupid. It's been a while since I've had to edit anything for content and clarity and organization. Most of my freelance work of late has been copyediting and proofreading, the kind of stuff I can do with half my brain focused on "The Amazing Race" (more on that later). Doing this test dredged up all my insecurities about my work. There's this nagging feeling that I'll be found out! Someone will know--somehow--that I don't know the Chicago Manual or the AP Styleguide by heart! Good god, she's looking stuff up! And she calls herself an editor?! I think a lot of this stems from the fact that, unlike many of my editor friends, I don't have a degree in journalism. I discovered too late in college that I really enjoyed this kind of work, and by then, I was settled enough into my college life that I didn't want to leave Houston for a journalism program elsewhere. So, I winged it by working on the school newspaper, where we didn't even have a staff advisor. It was just a bunch of high school newspaper editors and English majors cobbling together a weekly paper, using their suspect collective knowledge. Libel? Slander? Whaa?? (Appropriately enough, I just found this interesting article about the legal risks of online publishing.)

Despite this less than stellar academic background, I was hired out of college by a magazine, which allowed me to call myself an editor, though I often still felt like an imposter. Thing is, I interview well. I'm fairly good at making people believe that I know more than I do. (I must get this from my dad, who apparently lied his ass off to get his first job in the U.S.) So now, I've got this gnawing worm in my head that's chanting, "They'll know...they'll know. They'll take one look at your editing test and they'll knooooooow. Sucka."

I wish I had a profound conclusion about my psyche or at least some thoughts about my next career move to wrap up this entry, but no. It's late, I'm tired, and I've already sent off the completed test, so it's out of my hands for now. I'm tempted to shut up the voice in my head with a generous swig of Jameson's (how I love the Irish), but now I'm remembering what it did to my stomach the last time. Oh, and I guess I lied about thoughts on TAR. Except that CBS had better come in on my half-ass antenna tomorrow, or I'm going to be one pissed off non-editor.