Monday, April 18, 2011

Up, Up in the Air

I start this entry not even sure, in so much of a holding pattern am I, of my fate or life plans that may be in place by the end of this post. I have been waiting, and waiting, and waiting for something to come of my quest. My sister always says, though it never calms my nerves, that the second best answer to yes is no. Meaning, at least they told you no and did not let you sit around unknowing.

Well here I sit, at work, unable to do work, uncertain. My best prospect, and really last hope, is a position in D.C. for which I interviewed during my quest. I was told they would contact me either Friday (which did not happen) or today (which has yet to happen.) Every time my phone rings (stop calling me people!) I jump. But alas, no news. So I continue to wait.

In the meanwhile, since I'm ruined for work anyway, I'll attempt to recount some of my life over the last month of the holding pattern. By far the most exciting of the last six months, due to the final push for employment. When I left you last I was deeply emerged in my nostalgia series, recounting a holiday to Scotland. During this time I had what I supposed could be called a meltdown and decided we had to do something about our life. We could no longer go on in this constant stream of applications and rejections, driving 3 hours a day during extreme hikes in gas prices in order to get to part time jobs. This was it. We decided to head north, visiting cities where my most promising prospects were. Charlotte. Washington, D.C. Philadelphia. We called it the "Grab Destiny by the Balls Tour, 2011."

I called all my prospective employers and let them know I'd be "in the area" on such and such days and could I "drop in" and meet with them. I call this forced interviews, but it worked. Three agreed to see me. I won't go into our morning in Charlotte, as I've since learned that I did not receive that position, news that broke my heart just a little as the job was perfect perfect perfect and exactly what I wanted. After a beautiful day in Charlotte we drove to Washington, stayed overnight with my Aunt, and I interviewed for the position which has since become my most hopeful.

About that interview, let's be diplomatic and just say it was hard. OK, let's be serious and say it was the hardest interview ever. I've had difficult interviews. Panel interviews. Dissertation defenses for goodness sakes. This was brutal. After three interviews, which included a panel, I met with the head boss who put me through the ringer. Asked me questions I could never answer. And I didn't answer them. I smiled and joked and hoped that the purpose of all this was to see if I would cry or not and not entirely dependent on my actual answers. Then he pointed out a typo. A typo I made on my resume. A typo I noticed before leaving on the quest and corrected, printing out new resumes, one of which I handed him at the start of the interview. He said he noticed I had changed the typo. How, then, can I be detail-oriented if I make typos. The shit has hit the fan.

Once again I laugh it off, tell him how cleaver he is to have noticed, and try to make jokes. I basically dance for my supper. Let's hope, once again, that this was a test of my ability to stay calm and cool and not what it seemed, a meany bully pants.

And, it was my birthday.

1 comment:

  1. I'm just going to say it.

    Do you really want to work for an asshole like that?



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