XX: Controlled Burn

You know, it's too early to say the effects of the French Revolution.

I allude to this famous quote because I'm writing to you from the center of a very strange moment. This morning was my job interview. I had an alarm for 7ish, but I found myself coming out of my sleep at five to 6, so I was like... "Fine?" I laid there for a bit and maybe even briefly rested before Mel's 7:30 alarm went off and I figured I was best off just getting to it. I filled my morning with whatever I needed-- coffee, bagel, Wordle, scrolling. Walked Hank. Finally, the interview time came.

Forty minutes later, I came out of it feeling like I'd been in a car wreck. I had been slammed, spin, turned around, and probably injured. Oh my God, it was rough. I didn't feel like I had said anything right. Everything just seemed a little wrong and the more I spoke the more wrong turns I made. I was in quicksand, to mix a metaphor. As she was correcting me on everything, walking me through her feedback, I made sure to be gracious and openly seem to be taking notes about it. I thought maybe if nothing else, they might think "This guy is coachable" (and I like to think I am!) There was some positivity toward the end, when I asked about the remote work culture, occasional WeWork sessions, what have you. I thought perhaps she was being polite but it didn't sound like she'd ruled me out.

As soon as we hung up, I stood up, staggered upstairs, let Hank out of Mel's office and just... flopped on the bed. I felt heavy. My head was swimming. I was sure I had screwed up my first good opportunity in months. Quickly it became an existential crisis: if not this, what? Who could ever take a chance on me?? Where was I going?? What could I possibly do??? I sat sulking in these feelings and playing words until my body felt okay to walk Hank.

So I went out -- beautiful sunny day, getting warmer. I listened to wrestling podcast. I kept checking my phone because I figured they were fast getting back to me last time, it wouldn't be long before the rejection came down.

About halfway through, I got the email... "We're excited to move you forward!" Excuse me, what? Forward to the trash pole, you mean? No, no, I checked twice. This is real. I've got another interview on Wednesday.

I'm completely baffled, but hey, sure. I'll take it. I mean, when I thought I had biffed it hard, I was feeling sour about it -- like, why would I want a job I was so clearly unsuited for? -- but now I'm like, sure, let's get it.

It's not so unlike previous experiences. I wasn't sure I had succeeded in the interview when I got picked to do the Optimization project so many years ago. And then the subsequent one to become an Inventory Analyst, I know I whiffed a few questions, and I actually didn't get the job at first, I had to wait for another opening to miraculously come up due to someone else getting let go.

And then there was the time I had what I thought was a really good interview at Harper, and didn't get it after they even asked for my references (I suspect sabotage!) So you never can tell.

Beyond that, I mean, it's been the weekend. It was rainy, and Hank didn't like that. We went out to the mall for Mel's nails, and we were hoping for the garden center, but again, rain. Mel had to work much of Sunday, and we had had a late night the night before so we had gotten a late start, so it kind of passed in a haze. It was what it was. We're putting together this gathering for my birthday. I don't know, I was just kind of ruminating on how we're always going here there and everywhere and how much it takes it out of us, so I figured let's just corral everyone here. Maybe insane.

Which reminds me, I have a ton of cleaning to do, plus a dentist appointment on Thursday. So that'll be that.

Keep on rockin'

Scotto