The view from atop Mt. Thirty-Something can be serene, beautiful, awe inspiring, and nauseating all in the same breath. I personally wonder how I got here, and where exactly is the way down? Come with me on my journey into the everyday thoughts and questions of another Gen X-er on her way to The Promised Land.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

What could you possibly know in fifteen minutes?

I have a job interview tomorrow at 9:00am. I am have been unemployed for the past 7 months, and I am beginning to feel more than a bit intimidated by the hand that life seems to be dealing me in each game that I play. It's as though I am sitting over and over again with pocket twos and one $5.00 chip. That chip is supposed to somehow get me through this month's hand...a risky bet at best. Sometime the only solace I can take is that I may open the classifieds one morning and see that perfect job. It has yet to happen that way, and I'm opening on the blind.
I somehow finagled an interview for tomorrow morning. The job is a customer service position starting at $9.40 an hour. In my heart I know it is only to get me through until I can go back to college next fall, but is feels like a prison sentence, nonetheless.
I'm nervous about the pending interview. Somehow it has become more than acceptable socially to put a person in a room and expect them to tell you in 15 minutes or less, and with one piece of paper, why they are better than the other human on the toher side of the door who is in just the same place they are. It's very unfair, but very standard at the same time.
As I was walking my dog earlier this afternoon, I noticed a sign for sale in the antique store below my apartment. It read, "My goal in life is to be half the person my dog thinks I am." Hmm...how accurate. If only I could go into that interview tomorrow with my beagle, and leave the talking to him. I wonder, what would he say?
"Well, she buys me the food that's $20.00 a bag instead of the cheap stuff, even though she has no job...She always seems to make time to pet me...She can be a little flighty, but hey, who isn't...She walks me, (although I wish she did a bit more)...She sleeps too late, but I blame that on her working nights...She makes sure I see my other friends as often as she can...and most importantly, she picks my poo off of the street so no one else has to see me as anything other than perfect.......I'd say she's an 9 out of 10 and deserves this gig....Plus, I love her more than anyone in the world. She needs a break..."
No one knows you in 15 minutes. No one. No matter the facade you wear or the amount of cushion you add to your resume the real you, the one who busts their ass and wants to buy their kid sister a cool gift this Christmas, THAT person never makes it to the interview, anyway. May as well send in the drone.
So I'll wake up tomorrow and put on my face. I'll tie back my hair, and march confidently onto the firing range. I'll smile, and say exactly what they want to hear. I'll play the game, and try just that much harder to be just that much better than the guy on the other side of the door. Why? Because that's what my dog would tell me to do, and he's rarely wrong.

1 Comments:

Blogger J said...

Go fight win! The interview begins!

Just wow them with your charm, impress them with your knowledge, and tell them you're a balls-out diva that needs to be taken seriously.

Anyone that turns that down is a fool!

Mwah,

Deh J

9:50 PM

 

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