Working Girl

So, quite out the blue, I seem to have found a job. I interviewed with a local magazine six weeks ago. It was a good interview, I liked the editors a lot, I liked the office, the location, the "vibe of the thing" to quote a friend, and then. . . nothing. I reviewed the interview in my mind, playing with it like a blister -- you know you shouldn't pop it, but convince yourself it will make you feel better. What went wrong? Had I got tangled in my own sentences (something I do fairly often while speaking but can usually avoid when writing)? Had I imagined their enthusiasm? Had they taken another look at my CV and decided I wasn't serious enough?
Anyway, today I returned for a second interview and snagged a month's work as associate editor while another staff member is away and, if all goes well, I may just have stumbled on a longterm position. This is what I have been hanging out for for four months, as I dusted and stacked and reshelved and bagged and counted and smiled. This is what I kept telling myself was just around the corner. This is a gift.
I was elated for about 45 minutes. And then, as is my wont, I began to worry about it. What if I'm not up to it? What if they decide they don't like me so much after all? What if it's boring?
So bye bye bookshop, hello proper professional working life in California, train commute and all. Can't wait to see what it's like.