Why I Didn’t Get the Job

If you’ve ever picked up a shovel and dug holes to plant a radish, if you’ve ever considered throwing your briefcase into the ocean while aboard a ferry, and if you’ve ever sat in Easy Pose thinking it was the best moment of your life, this post is for you:

I was very excited to land in the Charlotte Douglas Airport (surprisingly, alive I might add; the turbulent flight led me to believe the last words I would ever hear would be, “Brace. Brace. Brace.” and I am by no means exaggerating) last Sunday. My agenda book was already packed full of appointments, meetings, people to see and places to go, and of course: a job interview. Wow, am I really back to this place? Where I need to start thinking about job searching again!? I thought I was done that when I turned 15 and got a job at the Pizza Barn in Jaffrey. From then on out, I feel it should have been business connections galore, networking overload, and pretty lilacs and roses until I climbed the ladder to CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Apparently, that is the ladder (as well as the latter) that I walked underneath, rather than climbing, because I like to defy bad superstition, before entering the working world. I have never had one of those high-powered jobs that young people brag about to their old college dorm buddies or that Mr. Money bags reminisces about with his friends around a poker table. Nor could I ever see myself strutting down Wall Street in NYC (unless I was joining Occupiers) or carrying a brief case, or worse…wearing a pin-striped pant suit!

Occupy Raleigh, anyone?

Monday arrives. I have all the energy and vivacity one would hope to have before a job interview. My thoughts were singing, “I’ve GOT THIS.” I’ve filled out the online application which was a soul-searching and minorly enlightening experience as they asked me (11) AWESOME questions such as:

1. What is a goal you are proud to have accomplished personal/career/otherwise?

2. How have you elevated another person from mediocrity to greatness?

3. What is the theme song of your life?

The company was my ideal environment, yoga clothing, emphasis on education, like-minded people dancing about; I could see myself doing handstands in the workplace and kicking customers downward dogs into shape. What’s not to love?

I drive to the job interview location, giving myself an ample and hearty HOUR to arrive on time; it was a group interview from 5-6pm. The only problem with allotting an hour was that it ended up taking WAY LONGER. I got lost slightly (even though I have been there a million point five times), and I hit every red light. Try 75 minutes. Pretty sure rule number one in the job-seeking world is to arrive to the interview on time and dressed, or at least wearing pants. Since I was creeping up on an entire 20 minutes of lateness, I decided to turn around and call it a day. Oh well, at least it forced me to wash my hair for the first time in a month and wear something other than stretch pants and a Kentucky Wildcats sweatshirt; I was for once sporting a really cute outfit sure to turn heads and land me a job that would make my momma proud.

It ended up being a very good thing that I didn’t go to that interview, as later I dug up some dirt on the company that would make it a not-so-ideal place to be representing. I mean some serious DIRT involving lying, murder, and sexual exploitation. Not exactly three things I would like to be lingering behind my name badge.

Now I sit here and ponder how and why people get “real” jobs, do we really want to be working for someone else? Do I have a choice considering my lack of independent wealth? I’ve already worked 27 jobs in my lifetime and just thinking about another makes me want to retire. Tropical island, here I come. I personally can keep so incredibly busy without working that I don’t honestly know how people have time to live their own lives and someone else’s too! This particular paragraph has sent my mind whirling in a million directions that delves into my past and childhood and all the emotional turmoil I have endured, but I don’t care to digress or exploit the innocent, so I shall just continue talking about how much I don’t want to work. Actually, I love to work and stay busy, I just don’t feel like spending all day working and feeling like I am not working which is usually what happens when I go about the typical “work” day. I would way rather do more important things with my time, like comment on and observe the human species in their natural habitat, read up on how to decently French kiss (even though I would just be reading the book that I WROTE on the topic), and get my nails done for free at salons across the world.

When I am not working for myself, or in a field / position that is meaningful, I feel like I am digging an early grave, selling my soul to the Devil himself, giving myself forehead wrinkles, and denying my true identity. When did reality consist of the mentality that we have to spend our lives slaving away only to unravel completely during our days off? I think there must be some sort of balance to strike. Perhaps now, with the freedom I have been recently granted…I can discover what this means. Meanwhile, I have one person yelling in my ear that I need to “GET A JOB!” and another telling me to sit, back, relax and enjoy watching the many buses of opportunity go by before deciding which one to jump on. My inner nymph is reminding me of “persistence” and “balance”. I like her advice best. Now how to follow it…. 

What’s my ultimate career goal? All that I am certain of is that it ends with organic vegetables, a flexible schedule to accommodate my two hour daily siestas, and some yoga….is that too much to ask!?

Where do you see YOURSELF in ten years?

Are you where you thought you would be when you last answered that question?

Well, I don’t know about you, but I have some serious work to accomplish around the house: cleaning, organizing, and cooking my way to becoming the perfect daughter my parents always wished I would be.

~ Emily ~

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