Anti-Climatic

I got to spend an evening in some relative warmth. When I landed in this southern city, it was 72 degrees, a lovely change from a foot of snow.

I went through a few hours of interviews and testing. It was a cattle-call kind of thing, there were 40 people there, some who applied and others who were recruited like me.

Now because I'm always purposefully vague about what I do for a living, I am not going to tell you the name of the company, but I can tell you that they told us over 75000 people have applied for 1400 positions. The 40 odd who were in that room made it through several cuts to score an interview.

They hired 4 or 5 people on the spot. I am extremely disappointed that I wasn't one of them. They told the rest of us that they will be in touch within the next 3-4 weeks.

What does that mean? Well, on the bright side, it means that they haven't said 'thanks but no thanks' to me. On the downside, which is where I am right now, this could be a kiss-off. I simply don't know.

I do know that I now want the job even more than I did before I came for the interview.

I am stuck in a loop of bummed out thoughts right now. What did I or didn't I do or say that I wasn't one of those lucky 4? Why wasn't I good enough? You'd have barely recognized me over the last few days, as I've been in this sort of state of giddy anticipation.

I was so sure that I was going to get it. So sure that I actually slept well last night in an anonymous hotel room, far from my own warm and snuggly bed and DH.

I know that tomorrow, it will be easier to be holding on to some hope, but tonight I think I will indulge in a good, mature pout.

Take the call

Scene from a day at the olde evile bank.

A telephone rings.

Me: "Stiffs Division, this is Lucy, how may I help you?"

Customer on phone: "Ah, Lucy, is Mr. Smith in?"

Me, after glancing at the phone lines to see if he's on his line: "May I tell him who's calling?"

Customer: "John Doe, on the Jones estate."

Me: Hold the line, please."
Switch to Joe's line. "Joe, Attorney Doe is on the line. Do you want the call?"

Joe: "Sure, I'll take the call."

This scene repeated itself over and over and over during the four or five years that I was Joe's assistant. My duties were primarily secretarial in nature, although there wasn't much that "Joe" did that I didn't do, and vice versa. We were a team, and a good one.

He had the law degree that I lacked, but he was never condescending or arrogant. Funny things happen when you work with estate cases and your clients are the dead folks. We had a good time most of the time. Joe was easily the best boss I've ever had, he taught me quite a bit about how to manage people, taught me how I wanted to be when it was my turn to be the boss someday.

As things progress toward to the next job in my career path, I had an instance yesterday where I had to decide if I was going to take the call and move forward or let it go to voicemail and stop what has become a runaway train. This company that is interested in my Swedish speaking abilities has been moving at light speed, a bullet train that I am not powerless to stop, but something that I've got to run like hell to catch.

I still want it.

I can't believe how quickly this has happened. Two phone interviews and arrangements for travel to a distant city (still stateside, if you're wondering) in the last two days. The travel is for a face-to-face interview.

Striking me speechless is a tough thing to do, but when the second phone interview wrapped up with the interviewer telling me that she was pleased to tell me that I'd passed through the stages far enough to come for a face-to-face, someplace that's about 1500 miles from home, at their expense, well, I couldn't think of much to say beyond, "Oh. Goodness."

Eloquent.