In school, I was almost intolerably ambitious. I was more than motivated, I was focused. This experience in itself, was very much centered on neglecting communication and balance so I could dedicate myself to personal projects and class work. At the time, it was the best thing I could do and, aesthetically, I was praised and envied for it. My singular choice was so fine-tuned that I was ahead of my classmates, and possibly better educated than my peers. However because of my high expectations, you can more or less agree that I’ve burned out after four years.
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I was looking for the one job and only one job because this was what I trained myself for—there could be nothing else. I graduated with high honors with esteem and awards so I let that keep me afloat for six months. But after that I had no related work experience—no work experience at all in the past ten years and it was embarrassing to discuss it.
My classmates had spent their education with juggling internships and part-time jobs but I was carving aware at my self-produced workload. “Too busy to get a job,” was how I saw it. Now I’m not busy at all and I wish I had a job. Some of my friends have long started their careers from networking and resumes building off of those humbling unpaid hours they volunteered for years ago. Now, I can’t so much as show my face more than once to those small businesses who “decided to go with someone else” when I had given a sturdy impression of when tried and tested I should have been that someone else. With most interviews I leave proud, knowing I presented myself as a quality-player yet the lack of callbacks has dampened my aspirations. And I’m certainly sinking further into a kind of failure I never thought of.
Guin Richards
I’m very proud of what I was wearing. All the items were borrowed, but they’re brand-new to me, and for once actually well-fitting. Red jacket, white-striped blouse, and pinstripe trousers, leather purse and shoes—I felt professional. I stalked into the building, ignored the all-mirror elevator, and introduced myself to the small person behind the desk. In the waiting room, I’m the only one who looks as put-together and I feel even better about myself though my shoulder pads were a tad too bulky. When passed a sheet of calculations and open answers to fill-in, I I slowly began to consider that I was in the wrong place.
After a long while with the questionnaire, I finally sat with my interviewer and I was glad she was another woman. Women, I find are much easier to chat with, and I expect she would appreciate my fashion as well I was at the time. After formalities, she offered the first real question concerning what had been my work experience and I bungled it. I spoke but I was long-winded but excited about what I was telling her. I was enthusiastic but in retrospect it was clear that I lacked focus. I elongated the few experiences just to make my side of the conversation better. I was very interested in the position but I was afraid that if I didn’t bring up the passing and minute details of my few other jobs then she wouldn’t know that I was ready for something better. As in, not only had I the capabilities for this type of work but I also had the personality for it.
Kevin Dubow
I was very surprised that after the first time I personalized my essay, I received a call to set up an interview. Normally I am very nervous about phone calls. But at that moment but I was feeling so proud about this instant-reaction, there wasn’t time to react.
The interview, in my opinion, was beautiful. It was a great interview because we talked shop and exchanged anecdotes and I made conscious efforts of redirecting the interview when I felt it was off track. This man would be my boss, so I understood that he was working to get all aspects of me, but I didn’t want to slip into the fault of an interview becoming a social picnic. In short, we were enjoying each other’s company and I gave numerous examples of my ambitions and adaptive abilities and how comfortable I was with learning without a supervisor and what I thought on the pace-ethic of slow learning. I even had a series of credentials to back my confidence. He did ask me why I had been through so many jobs in so short of time and I explained that these were all temp-jobs who were not interested in hiring long-term when I was very interest and capable of earning a better salary.
The interviewer had told me openly told me that I was great all-around—but he wasn’t sure about me, financially-speaking. I was amused by that sentiment but I didn’t question it. I wish I had. Despite all the laughter and poignancy of that interview, this is the only remark that I remember and it hurts to know that was what cost me a career. That despite being good enough and pleasing, and having the credentials, I didn’t seem committed on paper.
In a way, I feel that I officially ruined the interview when she asked when I be soonest available. The answer was three weeks because I would be travelling recreationally with friends. But I lied and told her
