The Post-Interview Update

Since graduating college in May of 2009 I have had four job interviews: one with Starbucks Coffee Company (ahem), one as a barista with Small World Coffee, where my apron would have been red (which I sadly had to turn down), one as a cashier with Whole Foods Market, which did not pan out, and one as a part-time teller with Beneficial Bank.

So, when people say the economy is bad, they're not fucking kidding.

(About that, though. I'm a little worried that we're gearing ourselves up for a comeback that isn't quite in on the horizon just yet, isn't even on the other side of things, far into the distance but close enough to be a speck or a dot or a fleck of nothingness so that we can all put our hands to our brows and say, "What's that, what's that coming up there over the hill?" I don't see it yet, and I don't see it soon. Not to be a frowny-face or anything, but every time someone says things like, it'll turn around, give it time, or it's a bad market for everyone, I want to shake my head or roll my eyes. Even though I recognize the truth of these things, I'm afraid "time" may end up being a little longer than we'd like to imagine it. But more on this later.)

So my most recent interview, with Beneficial, was this past Tuesday morning. It went well, actually. Sarah, my very eager interviewer, educated me in the history of Beneficial's founding, its merging with Farmers and Mechanics, its functional policies. She told me I seemed like a very intelligent person, a statement that I found flattering in lieu of my rather rusty interviewing skills.

For example:

1. The answer to any question is never "Uh," unless that question should specifically be, "What is the wrong thing to say when hoping to make a good impression of your communicative skills?" (See also Um, Like, Yeah, and Dude.)

2. When you haven't worn a (yellow! yes!) pencil skirt and heels in, well, months, finding the appropriate way to sit isn't the easiest thing in the world. Crossing at the ankles is probably always your best and least-fidgety bet, ladies.

3. It's okay to think about your answers. I mean, that way you avoid Dilemma #1, plus that way you're really giving honest, reflective responses. (For more tips in this department, go here.) I'd rather see someone think before they speak, awkward pause included, then cringe as they stumble over their words without really saying anything at all.

But. I don't want to be a teller. Or a banker. I don't want to approve loans or settlements or talk people into upgrading their accounts. Plus, I'm really bad at math, which I'm assuming in this circumstance would be an automatic strike against me.

Still, overall, it was fine. I'm not stoked on the job itself, but we'll see what happens. In fact, I reeeeally don't want to do it. Being only part-time, I suppose it has potential to be a second job, which wouldn't necessarily aid in the de-stressing I've been hoping for, but it would up my income, which is an altogether different peace of mind.

If interviews don't turn into jobs, or aren't even for jobs that you necessarily hope to get, it's still good practice for the bigger, future interviews, whenever they should show themselves. If I got called tomorrow for a more promising prospect, I'd be a little more prepared for it than I was one week ago. It's reason to be grateful, OR it's finding a reason to be grateful. It's forcing the silver-lining just a little, but I'm okay with that. If that's the only way to find it, then find it. Over and over again.

And so ...

Today a strange thing happened.

A woman named Sarah with a cheery phone persona, who informed me that she loves the summer heat (it's true, she said it), called and asked if I would like to come in for a job interview.

At a bank. As a part-time teller.

In the same town in which I already already work.

HEY. An interview is an interview and while I'm not over the moon about it (I'm not, am I?), it wasn't a bad feeling to be called by someone, anyone, who found me interesting enough or at least QUALIFIED enough to do something.

I'm doing my best to not shut it down in my head before I hear the details of the position, plus the important stuff = what it pays, the benefits, etc. Because whether we want to face it or not, unless it's the dream job and we're doing exactly what we want to do and dental be damned, then those things have to matter and factor into our decision-making.

Realistically speaking, it's probably not going to pan out to be more beneficial for me than the situation in which I already (annnd regrettably) find myself.

However, it IS a salute to that hope I refer to every now and then, which glows a little brighter now with this slight encouragement. Sure, it's a candle, not a torch. But I'll take it. Though I tend to be the queen of prejudging most situations (which takes a fight, trust me), I'll try to wait until I can draw a real verdict after 10AM this coming Tuesday. My impatience is itching at me, like wearing wool in this goddamn heat wave. But a few deep breaths and the realization that hearing Sarah out won't cost me a thing, might inform me, might enlighten me, might clear a certain air, that will help.

Right?

(A reminder, to myself more than anyone: This is all temporary to me, which is as relative as the permanence of things. That is the part that gets a little frightening, which is why I remind myself that the temperance aspect is always my decision. Sure, I need to make a little more money [or a lot more, but then again, who doesn't] if I'm going to be able to enact some real change on my situation, if I'm going to be able to work out the basics of what I want out of the purest form of being here. How I get there is the unknown. Making coffee, cashing checks, FOR NOW, it is all the same. I'm trying to be flexible without losing myself. It's a long road, but I'll take the traveler's life.)

Updates after Tuesday.

Count your what?

Today feels like a day for a challenge. A big one. So? I'm going see if I can at least try to realize the things I'm grateful for, in the midst of this otherwise daunting and (currently) unchanging circumstance.

That in mind, I wouldn't really consider myself a glass-half-full person. I'm not a downer, but I tend to think of things realistically rather than ideally. It's a flawed gift. That being said, this particular milestone, for me and those like me, is pretty big and pretty honest. I might choke on my words later, or as I write them, but I do mean them and will try to remember them the next time I'm one second away from chucking a latte at an unsuspecting person's forehead. (See? That's the real me.)

1. First things first, I am not a garbage man on a garbage truck. I was stuck driving behind one today and after a full minute or two of complete annoyance, I realized, asshole that I am, these people are only trying to make their living. In a very sweaty and unforgivingly smelly environment. Though I damn the scent of espresso on a daily basis, it is not anywhere near as stomach-churning the stench of someone else's week-old refrigerator clean-outs. I watched a five-foot man reach full body into a curbside can. Truth.

2. Relatively speaking, I don't have an overwhelming amount of financial responsibilities. I have the standard check-list, all of which are manageable, and I am not digging for change in the couch cushions in order to meet my monthly demands. Can I buy new shoes? No. But I can eat and sleep, simple luxury that is not as available as you'd hope or imagine.

3. Though I have a lot of days where my hope tends to dwindle, I have not lost it just yet. Its light is faint and flickering, but I can still see it, every step of the way.

I admit I've always been one of those people who rolled their eyes whenever a friend (or enemy) cheerfully stated, "Well, it could be worse!" Though, begrudgingly, I believe what always caused me to grimace at those words was the fact that they were very, very true. It COULD be worse. In every way. And while I don't humble myself before that phrase, I acknowledge it with some decency, I give it a half nod or a small wave like you would when you bump into someone you haven't seen for a long time, someone you weren't exactly dying to reconnect with while pushing a shopping cart with your hair wet, buying tampons, reading celebrity tabloid magazines. For instance.

It's an awkward reunion, re-realizing this frankly unpleasant fact. However, the point remains that even though the worst is never exactly upon us, doesn't mean we are obligated to be content with our current standing. We don't have to like it, we certainly don't have to thank it. I can just imagine the day I go and kiss the Siren's feet in gratitude. There will be swine flapping their wings everywhere.

I think we can strike a balance between thankfulness and determination. I think we can take our fretting and dismay in stride. We can try to weigh it against the irreplaceably good things that we already have, if we want to, if we can spin it that way.

When I say we, I mean I. I get that there's a difference between a blessing and a circumstance. One is surely sprinting far ahead of the other. But that hope I referred to clinging to, I have a feeling is going to be a lot easier to grasp if I can find the good. I'll dig it up, wherever it may grow.

Cover letter = who you are.

One of the most reassuring things I have discovered about this entire process of finding a job is how promising and even inspiring some of the actual application questions can be.

Don't laugh. I'm serious.

I think that by now, six or seven posts in, we've acknowledged and agreed that the common goal here is to find an occupation that not only speaks to you but suits you in as many ways as possible (pay, location, demands, commute, contribution, you get the idea), a job that you can feel good about doing without losing too much of your own self, your own time, ability to share the good (and alright, hard) parts of life with those you love, etc.

So this is what we want. I'm not sorry for it. Are you? We want to be happily employed, happy in life, in constant, swoon-y love (preferably with someone who finds us equally irresistible), and heaven help us, if the job we do can be one that both supports our causes or includes our interests that we have truly struck vocational gold, whatever that may mean to you.

I don't know. Lately, I've been looking for extra reasons of interest when I peruse the local (and not so local) listings. For example, maybe it's a company I can really see myself fitting in with or someone who has a policy or mission worth standing behind. And then they go and ask a question or two that causes me to perk up, something I truly have an answer for, something I've thought over thorougly, something like, what's important to you about your workplace? What are the crucial elements? What motivates you? Whether or not I ever hear back from such places, it is infinitely comforting to know that certain environments care about such things. That they don't just want someone who will show up, but someone who will be inspired by the work that they do, someone that is fully invested in doing their best.

Sometimes I will go to apply for a position at a place that, on paper or webpage, seems to fit the criteria I have for doing good and feeling right about my particular involvement in such work. The hours can be right, the pay decent (because for the most part, decent is where that sidewalk ends), the workload challenging while manageable. But something seems weird about it, something isn't entirely right with either the way I'm viewing it or the way it's being presented to me.

If the actual process is feeling a little run-of-the-mill, I know that I always have a chance to wow 'em (ha HA) with my cover letter. As a person inquring after writing jobs (for the most part) my cover letter (unless they should additionally request samples) is my place to showcase that I CAN WRITE. I can form functional and interesting prose, I can sound convincing and intelligent. When I write a cover letter, what I try to do is sound like myself. To me, it doesn't make sense to sound as generic as possible. I want to pose myself as memorable (while remaining professional, of course) in a way that when those doing the hiring are sifting through the mountains of paper on their desks in their important-looking studies (this is only how I like to imagine it) they will think to themselves, Wait, hold on now, where was that one from the girl with an obvious sense of humor, the one who seems knowledgeable without taking herself too seriously, who seems to understand the responsibilities we demand with a can-do and jaunty attitude?

Don't worry, despite the glimmering hope that this particular concept is a reality somewhere, I do realize that it's a bit of a stretch. I'm only trying to sketch for you a. what it's like to live inside my brain and b. the image I attempt to convey in a few well-structured sentences that express my sincere interest, ability, and gratitude.

I try to be very honest. I highlight what I am good at, as you are supposed to, and I bring attention to what I am capable of bringing to the position. I tell the truth about my experience and how much I am willing to learn and the commitment I am willing to give. A lot of times I feel better about submitting a letter chock-full of personality when the job posting itself stands apart, uses comical wording, encourages individuality, stresses wanting a candidate with exceptional and individual skills.

If the posting is dull and full of run-on sentences that exhaust such a task as simple as FILING (I'm bored already), then I tend to run a little lighter. I don't brush off certain companies or options because I picture them to be merely dull. I do, however, find myself hoping for a response from a place that is more, well. Charismatic.

You should be able to feel like yourself at any job, especially if it is one where you are going to be devoting a lot of your time. I want to make sure that my potential hiring committee knows what they're getting. I want to seem capable AND one of a kind.

In a ever-competitive market, I know that getting hired seems like the most important part. To a point, it is. But I think it's majorly important that we don't sell ourselves short. That we aim for the biggest and hope that the receiving end has a sincere respect for our honesty. And, hopefully, a generous sense of humor.