I don’t know if you can tell, it’s pretty subtle, but I’m a bit on edge. I’m 18 minutes away from my first phone interview/screening and I kind of want to projectile vomit. At the same time, I just want to get it over with. The waiting is absolute agony.
I’ve decided I’m going to do this post in two parts. One before the interview that’s mean to get my thoughts out of my head so this poor woman doesn’t have to listen to me ramble, and the other as a sort of reflection piece after. I figure if I mess it up, someone else can at least benefit from seeing how and why and avoiding exactly that. Oh goodness, I’m nervous.
I’m not particularly into the job, it’s just the first time a job interview has mattered so much in the scheme of things. It’d be nice to know I had options when I graduate, although I know if something more editorial assistant-like was offered, I’d snap it up in a heartbeat. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to give this preliminary interview everything I have.
To prepare, I’ve been to the company’s website, read their manifesto and mission statement, and done some research into what other people are saying about them (past employees, current employees, competition, etc.). Seems like a pretty good place to work, and it’s not too far from my family home, so the adjustment from college to real life would be a little less jarring. I could go home for Sunday dinners, just like my mom wants.
At the same time, though, I think I might need change that’s a little bit more drastic to mark the transition. I’m also not entirely sure what that means right now, but there. I’ve said it.
She missed the call-time. Isn’t that so funny? I was awake two hours earlier than I had to be because I wanted to prepare. I wanted to ace this, my first interview for my future. I wanted to blow her away with how organized and ready I was. Some part of me even hoped she’d offer me the job right away. I’m just that impressive.
No. Instead, I stared at the phone for thirty minutes and had to get ready in a whirlwind for class because I’d spent the entire morning anxiously awaiting a phone call that didn’t come until an hour later than it was supposed to while I was in class. I couldn’t even answer because I was leading a discussion about the submissions to the literary journal we work on as a class.
It’s possibly the most dejected I’ve felt in a couple of weeks (which is actually a great sign for my mental health).
I spent the morning feeling sorry for myself and forgotten, which was incredibly overdramatic. And, even worse, it was unproductive. I was distracted from what is basically my job right now, and felt unprepared to show my professor I what I’d been working on. It was just a shit way to exist for several hours.
Then I stopped myself (meds are amazing in that they give you control over your brain. Wild concept, I’m aware). It wasn’t helping me at all to get angry at this woman, who probably just wrote it in her calendar incorrectly. Feeling dejected wasn’t going to help me get a job, and in fact would probably be counterproductive. I reminded myself that I had, honestly, not even been that excited for this particular job. It’s not exactly in the field I’m trying to get my foot into. So why was I so upset.
My pride. I’d been vain enough to think that I was so important, that this woman was definitely interviewing me and maybe six other people for the position, but leaning heavily towards me. Which is ridiculous, because that’s just not how the hiring process works.
I’m competing with everyone from my graduating class across the country (and, often, outside of it), as well as the ever-growing number of people from previous years who still don’t have employment.
If I want to make it in the publishing world, or any field, I need to get a tougher skin. Each rejection letter is not a personal slight, and each forgotten or missed opportunity is not the end of the world as we know it. At least…I hope not.