Its a Start

I liked that my dad sounded genuinely shocked that I didn't get the job.

The call came this morning and I knew as soon as my cell phone started ringing that it was them calling to notify me of what they chose. I silenced my phone, letting it go to voice mail. I couldn't have had either conversation at work.

As I waited for the voice mail notification, I squeezed my eyes shut and chanted in my head, "Please don't give it to me, Please don't give it to me." It was the coward's way out. It wasn't my dream job, but one day at work after a particularly frustrating morning I shot out four job applications in quick successions. After I did so, I promptly forgot about them.

I was completely taken aback when I was offered and interview. It would be more of a lateral move, doing basically the same tasks and probably dealing with the same annoyances, but I had made a decision at the new year to stop whining about my job and to do something proactive about it. Applying was that. I hadn't really gotten to the second step.

I called back and set up the interview. As soon as I hung up the anxiety set in. It was two fold: anxiety about the interview process and anxiety about sneaking around at work, going to the interview and possibly giving my notice. I felt as if I were cheating.

The interview fast approached. I did the required research on the organization, an art school in the city, and tried to sum up my strengths and weaknesses, where I wanted to go in my career and all that other bull shit you have to spew in an interview.

I had done a test run the night before. It is a little dorky, but in the past I have found that it eases the tension a little. Getting there is half the battle.

The interview took place in a conference room with a large, extremely ugly glass conference table being supported by what looked to be a tree split in half. I was tense, but the three interviewers all seemed nice.

They started by reading a statement and saying they would ask me a series of questions that would take 35 to 40 minutes. I panicked a little. What a long time for an interview! Not to worry, I was out in 20.

But what did that mean!?

I obsessed about it for about 10 minutes before deciding there was nothing I could do about it. The questions had been predictable and I feel like I had represented myself well. It was over and done and I could always just look at it as good practise. Besides, I didn't even know if I wanted the job.

They called this morning citing they had offered the job to a "strong internal candidate." I wonder if they say that to all the candidates. "Its not you its us," sort of deal. To soften the blow and give you no reason to fault yourself. Now I can say, the only thing that was wrong with me was that I was not an internal candidate. Its like having a guy break up with you because he's gay. Well you can't help that you're not a guy. Okay maybe not QUITE like that, but you get the gist.

After hearing the message and experiencing a little disappointment mixed with relief I called my dad.

"You're kidding me." He said the shock apparent in his voice.

I appreciated it.