It's All Happening

It happened.

I had an interview.

Pinch me.

About a week and a half ago I got an e-mail from a woman at Harvard, where I had applied to a job that I barely remember applying for.  I set up a time, had my interview this past Monday, and just yesterday I was contacted to come in for a second interview.  A few things to note, have I:

1.  I was through the roof when I got that first e-mail for an interview.  Naturally, I called and texted all of my closest friends, my sister, my mom and dad, and my dead grandparents to let them know the news.  Then I let them all know how it went.  And then I told them when I got e-mailed for a second interview.  I experienced a range of responses, from a simple yet sincere "That's great!" to ecstatic, jumping up and down, hands over the mouth congratulatory glee (thanks, Ma).  In spite of everybody's continual support and request to be updated as news came along, I couldn't help but wonder if it was somehow inappropriate or just "too much" to be sharing all of my new news.  For some reason I have a hard time remembering if any of my friends kept in touch about the unfolding of their job searches.  Of course I would never be anything but supportive, but upon further pondering I wondered if maybe they didn't share for a reason.  The only real snag I immediately see in sharing moments like this is the uncomfortable situation that arises when you interview but subsequently don't get the job (take one insincere "I didn't really want that job, anyway," repeat times twenty).  Nonetheless, an interview is surely a small (or big, or huge) success, and I wanted to share it with the people who are closest to me.

2.  Shortly after my "OMFG SOMEBODY WANTS ME" ecstasy faded, I was struck by a panicked thought: "What the fuck am I going to wear?"  I suppose some people have a standard interview outfit;  I do not.  My last job was casual, which meant I wore my interpretation of casual, which meant leopard print and five inch wedge sandals with socks.  Needless to say, I haven't gone shopping for a pair of professional pants since... well, ever.  You say "business casual," I say "fucking shoot me in the face."  Anyway, I'll worry about professional dress when I actually get a job.  Luckily, I have one white Ralph Lauren oxford that I got from TJ Maxx a while back.  I paired that with a pair of black pants my mom picked up for me, also from TJ Maxx (seriously, thanks, Ma).  I figured black and white was a classic combo - in spite of not having much character, the outfit couldn't be judged too harshly, right?  The harshest judgment came from my father, who informed me that I looked like a waitress.  This did not help my pre-interview jitters.  Anyway, next time I'd like to wear an outfit with a bit more character (easier said than done, but I think that showing a bit of personality in a tasteful way can't hurt).

3.  I will never be okay with interviews.  Never.  I am self-aware enough to know that I am not natural around people I don't know and can get pretty awkward around people I do know.  Self-deprecation aside, I don't think that anybody who knows me would say that I am particularly charismatic or charming (not to say I don't have my moments;  those are just not defining qualities of mine).  I wasn't all that nervous for the interview, partly because this wasn't my dream job, partly because I knew that I was at least a little over-qualified, and partly because I am very aware that nervousness is not a kind friend during an interview.  Though afterwards I couldn't help but fixate on answers I could have made stronger or details I could have included to sell myself, I walked out of it feeling that it had gone well.  And apparently, it did.  My best advice for going into an interview is to view it as a conversation more than a question and answer session.  I butt in (when appropriate) with a quick question or two, not only because I actually had questions but also because it showed that I was engaged.  Smile. Have good eye contact.  And always have some questions for the end.  Basically, don't over-think it.

So, I survived.  I'd be lying if I said I were happy to have to do another one (c'mon Harvard, aren't your standards notoriously low?), but knowing that they liked me (or in their words, were "favorably impressed," barf) helps ease my nerves a bit.

And that is all for tonight.  Happy Nemo 2013 to all mah nor'easters!