  So, my interview was rather harrowing yesterday. I was totally nervous going in, but I had a few things going in my favour. First, I'd been through the job interview for this position last year, so I kind of knew what to expect; second, I'd already taken the arduous editing test candidates were subject to, so that helped to ease the tension for me a bit. Finally, having applied for the job last year, I'd had all of this year to plan and come up with ideas as to what I wanted to do with the job.
Those, among other things (including what was apparently a very well-done interview by yours truly), earned me the top job at the newspaper for next year, and I'm totally thrilled. But part of winning meant that another candidate—a friend and colleague whose skills are exemplary—had to lose. I consoled her with kind words and beer, and though I know I should have felt elated last night, I felt uneasy: concerned that she was pissed off at me for winning the job.
Of course, my delusions were unfounded as usual. After a long chat with the losing candidate, I convinced her to apply for one of the other positions on the editorial board (being hired next weekend). So, for now I can relax and focus on more important things: somehow making it so that Bill Murray wins the Oscar for Best Actor. 
