The Interview

Ok, here we go again. This is a new company, a new interview; they don't know about the twenty or so people who have already said they don't want me.

Smile. Shake his hand. Oh god, I already forgot his name!

I can already tell he doesn't want me. Look how stiff he is; it's like his bones are all made of metal. He won't even look at me. He just stares at the list of questions he has prepared. Oh no! He pushed aside the paper. That can't be good. I'm not what he expected, I can tell already.

"So, why did you apply for this position?" Finally, he speaks.

"Well, I have a lot of experience from having worked at similar jobs. I worked as an administrative assistant for six years so I have a great deal of familiarity with office management practices. I also worked as a customer service representative for three years. I have great people skills." Did I just say that? "I always try to remember that to clients I am the face of the company. This means that if I want the company to look good I have to do a good job." Did I ramble too much? I'll have to try to be more concise.

"What makes you think you can do this job?"

He makes it sound like I'm wasting his time. But before he met me he must have thought I had the skills he wanted or else he would never have asked me to come in for an interview.

"The job, as you described it to me over the phone, consists of many of the tasks I have performed in the past. Of the responsibilities and duties you spoke of, there is not a single one that I am not capable of performing. As you can see from the tests you sent me, I have a lot of skills and a lot of talent. And anything that I don't already know I am more than willing to learn. That I have never held a position that is exactly the same is a benefit to you: you now have the opportunity to train me to do tasks in exactly the manner you want them done. I know that I am capable of doing this job, and you must suspect so as well or else I would not be sitting here now."

I must have said something that had an impact. He's looking at me, finally. Is this good or bad?

"We had more than sixty people apply for this position. Only twelve were asked to take the tests. Of those, we interviewed four. Even if we don't offer you the job," don't you really mean when?, "you should be proud that you made it so far through the process. Especially when so many more experienced people applied." Ahh, there it is, the kiss off. "We will be contacting people on Monday to inform them of our decision."

That's right, keep smiling. Stand up. Shake his hand. Try to say, "It was nice meeting you," without adding in a few other, more choice, words.

Well, it's only 11:00. What should I do with the rest of my day seeing as I have no job to go to and no reason to celebrate?

What went wrong? He only asked me two questions. Obviously he had no intention of considering me as a serious candidate. But any time I spoke with him before he seemed to be impressed. It wasn't until he actually met me, until he saw me, that he changed his mind.

What changed? Do I look too young? Do my shoes not match? Are my breasts too small? Am I too plain? What happened? Why doesn't he want me? Why doesn't anyone want me?

Not being able to do what I was trained to do, what I love, is more than disappointing. But I knew that I wouldn't find a job over-night, no matter how much I may have fantasized that it would happen. I knew that I would have to accept a less than ideal job, for now. I never expected, though, that I would find nothing. What is wrong with me that I can't even get a job pumping gas?

In the end it always seems to come down to the same two factors: I don't have enough experience for the jobs for which I have been trained, and my university degree over-qualifies me for everything else. I never would have imagined that this could happen to me.

I got a university education so that I could get a better job. Education equals better future; that's what everyone says. Who would ever imagine that "everyone" lied.

What can I tell my husband? How can I look him in the eyes and tell him, again, 'they said they'd let me know,' without letting him see how disappointed I am? It's getting hard just to walk back into that house.

I can't keep myself from crying anymore. Most days I don't make it past lunch before the racking sobs begin. I try to hide it; I don't want anyone to know. It's been getting more difficult lately though. My eyes always seem puffy. I'm sure everyone can tell, especially my husband. He cancelled a business trip the other day. He's never done that before. I know he's worried. I'm worried too: I don't want him to take away my razor and empty the cleaning products from the cupboards.

Maybe he should.

Sometimes nothingness seems like a better option. The total blackness of oblivion. Peace and quiet. It would be so easy to have an "accident;" to fall in front of a bus or to take a few too many sleeping pills. I probably would too, if I was certain that it would really end things. I'm pretty sure now that there is no god, but what if there is some kind of afterlife? Maybe it won't be halos and harps, but there could be something. I don't want to be in pain forever.

No, instead I will spend hours everyday writing resumes, visiting companies, researching, and going to these pointless interviews. Maybe it won't help, but at least it can't hurt, anything other then my pride that is.