TSawyer84
12-01-2009, 02:23 PM
A lot of things have happened lately. I had a job interview, and I also met with Charles, the consultant I talked about in one of my recent entries, to discuss the business idea that I hope to sell to companies and make money all on my own. I didn’t rush to post about these things because this is a story in itself with conclusions yet to come.
It wasn’t long after my last entry that I received a phone call from a cheerful woman who said that she received my resume from someone that I met at a networking function. She asked me if I was interested in a position with her company, and wanted to know if I would like to come to their office in the city and interview for the position. It was a Monday, and she scheduled the interview for that Friday at 2:00 pm. The woman emailed me driving directions to their office, which was in the heart of the city. When I hung up the phone I called my parents and girlfriend to tell them of the news. We were all pleasantly surprised, and after that, my mind began to wonder.
That week I reorganized my portfolio and began thinking of what to tell my interviewer if I was asked as to why I left my last job. I begin scripting responses in my head, hoping that they would not be too privy. But it really didn’t matter where I had been. It was more about who I was and where I was going. I wasn’t worried. I was excited.
I knew that I needed to get a reference from my previous employer, so I called a woman named Kim that I worked closely with who I felt was a trusted friend. I had not spoken to anyone from that place since I was fired. Her phone rang and rang and I left her a voicemail telling her about the interview.
That Friday I arrived downtown early to get some lunch and mentally prepare for the interview. I text messaged my friends that morning, telling them I was pumped up and ready to kill it. They wrote me back with words of encouragement, and my girlfriend sent me a sweet message that made me feel all the more confident. I felt like I was in control. Pure energy filled my heart, and I was determined to take the next step and put all of this misery behind me. This was my moment to shine. I reflected on my streak of bad luck, and the words of one of my friends whispered into my head.
“You can’t possibly have bad luck forever…” he said.
I took my car to the 7 story garage next to the building where the company’s office was. The parking garage was actually attached to a massive condominium complex that had just finished being built about a year ago. I parked on the first floor, and since I was still early, I rode the elevator to the top floor to look out at the view. I was decked out in my charcoal suit, wearing a blood-red tie with a diamond texture. With my leather portfolio in hand I walked to the edge of the parking garage and leaned against the concrete ledge. I gazed out at the magnificent city. The glass skyscrapers reflected the dim autumn sky on the horizon, and I saw the dirty rooftops of the buildings beneath my feet. Pedestrians looked like urban lemmings at the crosswalk with matchbox cars gliding along streets beside them.
I took the elevator to the ground floor, and as the doors opened I saw a stone fountain trickling water in the redbrick archway. An echoing voice spoke to me.
“Sir, are you looking for the leasing office?” a man in a navy blue blazer asked me.
I paused for a moment.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“Through the glass door on your right,” he said.
When I walked into the condo’s leasing office, I saw sleek modern furniture sitting on white tile beneath metallic art deco lights. There was an elliptical marble desk and a tall man with chiseled features and royal blue eyes greeted me.
“How can I help you, sir?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m just down here for a job interview, and I was, uh, just curious about how much it would cost to live in a place like this, you know, like, if I got a job here, maybe I could just walk to work,” I said.
He smiled at me and handed me a brochure.
“It depends what you are looking for. A studio suite is going for $1,150 now. You can check out the floor plans online. Good luck on your interview,” he said.
I looked at the brochure and saw images of the sleekest bachelor pads imaginable. Shining hardwood floor topped with new millennium furniture that faced a rectangular flat screen television. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the sparkling city skyline. I fantasized about being there, hosting a housewarming party with all of my longtime buddies. I pictured us laughing together pompously, cracking open Heinekens and reminiscing about the days when our spirits were dead and hopeless, playing Super Nintendo until 3 in the morning and making just enough money to dull the pain of our perpetuating fear of failure. It was a toast to triumph, a toast to sticking together through thick and thin, and a toast to the prosperous future we would fight hard to protect. I slid the brochure into my portfolio, and looked at my watch. It was 1:00 pm. I had an hour to get lunch and wait for my interview.
My dreams gave me a natural high and I could not stop smiling. I was amazed at the world of opportunity in front of me. Right before my eyes were a million different people, with a million different buildings, and a million different suites in them. There were art galleries amongst banks. There were homeless musicians strumming guitars outside of law firms. There were tattooed pizza guys serving slices to the finance geeks. There were blonde haired boutique bunnies fetching skirts for the senator’s trophy wife. Skinny trees grew from missing tiles in sidewalk, with decorative iron bars protecting their fragile trunks. Hobos addressed you as “sir” or “ma’am” when they asked for a quarter to spare. It was an endless maze of strangers and you could count on finding someone equally as lost as you.
I begin to daydream about parking in this garage each day before work, and walking to my office among the suits, ties, cell phones, and Starbucks coffee cups that were attached to the ageless city people. As I walked in the shade of the towering iron metropolis, I saw a white BMW pull up next to a parking meter and a gorgeous redhead woman step out. Her thick locks shined against the afternoon sun and her fit body was wrapped in a skintight turquoise dress. Her black heels clicked against the pavement as she briskly disappeared into a building across the street. I couldn’t see her face, and wondered how old she was. She could have been 20. She could have been 40. She could have been 50. The city had the effect of giving all that walked it a youthful drive, and a cloud of endless desire permeated the streets among the faint scent of car exhaust, reclaimed water, cigarette smoke, and Italian cooking. There was something intriguing to see on every corner, and I turned my head constantly as if to think I could possibly see it all.
Around 1:30 my phone started vibrating in my pants pocket. It was Kim, the woman I worked with at my last job. I answered the phone and she said that she was happy to have heard from me. She said that she had been wondering what I have been up to. I told her there was so much to talk about. She went on to tell me that Human Resources started questioning people in our department about me, and that once all of the directors found out that each person was being questioned, they pulled each employee in one at a time, and gave them a generic script of what to say about me. Before the directors could get to one girl, Human Resources questioned her and she told them nothing but good things about me. When the directors got wind that this girl stuck up for me, she was reprimanded for it. I was shocked at how far the deceitfulness of these people spread. How could an organization that claimed to be “Christian” tell their employees to lie to their own HR department? Kim told me that she would give me a glowing reference, and wished me the best of luck on my interview.
At 2:00 pm, I found myself interviewing with a woman who just may be my future supervisor. She told me all about the job position, and that she needed someone who could write about, talk about, and successfully sell their services among business leaders looking for continuing education. It was a position that required people skills and self motivation. She said she needed someone to help her in writing a large manual to promote the company’s services, and that this person would begin work in December before Christmas.
I showed her all of my work, and told her all about how since I left my job I begin publishing articles about the business model that I hoped to begin my own business with. She was impressed with my motivation and entrepreneurial spirit. I got the feeling of being needed. I was given the impression that I was well qualified for the job and that I was the best candidate. I felt so proud of myself that the majority of our discussion focused on the work that I had done since I left my last job – the writing, the networking, and the desire to strike out on my own despite the economic situation.
After about 45 minutes of conversation, I felt like I had known this person for 20 years. I was completely comfortable and so confident. I had not oversold myself, and since I have been developing my own business on the side, I still have that to fall back on. I wasn’t desperate, despite this being the only interview I have had in over 2 months. I was filled with positivity, and as of right now, I hope to hear back from this company with an offer in December. I was told that I would be contacted for a second interview after Thanksgiving, so I am now waiting to hear what will happen.
I’ve been telling myself not to get my hopes up, but it has been impossible to stop myself from dreaming. In recent weeks, I have felt myself naturally being carried away by the fantasy of being successful. I’ve been less frigid with my budget, thinking that it will only be a matter of weeks before I cash my first paycheck.
When I left the interview, I sat in my car for a few moments and had a flashback to the first week after I was fired, September 18, 2009. It was the day I got scammed out of $300 at the gas station. I remembered how in those moments that I was swindled out of my dwindling supply of cash, I was a victim of my own fantasies. In the same way that I dreamt of selling that stereo for 3 times its worth, and instantly making my money back, I was already dreaming of landing this job and being able to carry on triumphantly. I asked myself if this job interview was too good to be true, and told myself that it can’t be. Truth in life can’t always be pain and disappointment. As my friend told me, you can’t have bad luck forever.
To be continued…
Excerpt from Diary of a Corporate Burnout (http://diaryofacorporateburnout.blogspot.com/)
It wasn’t long after my last entry that I received a phone call from a cheerful woman who said that she received my resume from someone that I met at a networking function. She asked me if I was interested in a position with her company, and wanted to know if I would like to come to their office in the city and interview for the position. It was a Monday, and she scheduled the interview for that Friday at 2:00 pm. The woman emailed me driving directions to their office, which was in the heart of the city. When I hung up the phone I called my parents and girlfriend to tell them of the news. We were all pleasantly surprised, and after that, my mind began to wonder.
That week I reorganized my portfolio and began thinking of what to tell my interviewer if I was asked as to why I left my last job. I begin scripting responses in my head, hoping that they would not be too privy. But it really didn’t matter where I had been. It was more about who I was and where I was going. I wasn’t worried. I was excited.
I knew that I needed to get a reference from my previous employer, so I called a woman named Kim that I worked closely with who I felt was a trusted friend. I had not spoken to anyone from that place since I was fired. Her phone rang and rang and I left her a voicemail telling her about the interview.
That Friday I arrived downtown early to get some lunch and mentally prepare for the interview. I text messaged my friends that morning, telling them I was pumped up and ready to kill it. They wrote me back with words of encouragement, and my girlfriend sent me a sweet message that made me feel all the more confident. I felt like I was in control. Pure energy filled my heart, and I was determined to take the next step and put all of this misery behind me. This was my moment to shine. I reflected on my streak of bad luck, and the words of one of my friends whispered into my head.
“You can’t possibly have bad luck forever…” he said.
I took my car to the 7 story garage next to the building where the company’s office was. The parking garage was actually attached to a massive condominium complex that had just finished being built about a year ago. I parked on the first floor, and since I was still early, I rode the elevator to the top floor to look out at the view. I was decked out in my charcoal suit, wearing a blood-red tie with a diamond texture. With my leather portfolio in hand I walked to the edge of the parking garage and leaned against the concrete ledge. I gazed out at the magnificent city. The glass skyscrapers reflected the dim autumn sky on the horizon, and I saw the dirty rooftops of the buildings beneath my feet. Pedestrians looked like urban lemmings at the crosswalk with matchbox cars gliding along streets beside them.
I took the elevator to the ground floor, and as the doors opened I saw a stone fountain trickling water in the redbrick archway. An echoing voice spoke to me.
“Sir, are you looking for the leasing office?” a man in a navy blue blazer asked me.
I paused for a moment.
“Yes, I am,” I said.
“Through the glass door on your right,” he said.
When I walked into the condo’s leasing office, I saw sleek modern furniture sitting on white tile beneath metallic art deco lights. There was an elliptical marble desk and a tall man with chiseled features and royal blue eyes greeted me.
“How can I help you, sir?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m just down here for a job interview, and I was, uh, just curious about how much it would cost to live in a place like this, you know, like, if I got a job here, maybe I could just walk to work,” I said.
He smiled at me and handed me a brochure.
“It depends what you are looking for. A studio suite is going for $1,150 now. You can check out the floor plans online. Good luck on your interview,” he said.
I looked at the brochure and saw images of the sleekest bachelor pads imaginable. Shining hardwood floor topped with new millennium furniture that faced a rectangular flat screen television. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the sparkling city skyline. I fantasized about being there, hosting a housewarming party with all of my longtime buddies. I pictured us laughing together pompously, cracking open Heinekens and reminiscing about the days when our spirits were dead and hopeless, playing Super Nintendo until 3 in the morning and making just enough money to dull the pain of our perpetuating fear of failure. It was a toast to triumph, a toast to sticking together through thick and thin, and a toast to the prosperous future we would fight hard to protect. I slid the brochure into my portfolio, and looked at my watch. It was 1:00 pm. I had an hour to get lunch and wait for my interview.
My dreams gave me a natural high and I could not stop smiling. I was amazed at the world of opportunity in front of me. Right before my eyes were a million different people, with a million different buildings, and a million different suites in them. There were art galleries amongst banks. There were homeless musicians strumming guitars outside of law firms. There were tattooed pizza guys serving slices to the finance geeks. There were blonde haired boutique bunnies fetching skirts for the senator’s trophy wife. Skinny trees grew from missing tiles in sidewalk, with decorative iron bars protecting their fragile trunks. Hobos addressed you as “sir” or “ma’am” when they asked for a quarter to spare. It was an endless maze of strangers and you could count on finding someone equally as lost as you.
I begin to daydream about parking in this garage each day before work, and walking to my office among the suits, ties, cell phones, and Starbucks coffee cups that were attached to the ageless city people. As I walked in the shade of the towering iron metropolis, I saw a white BMW pull up next to a parking meter and a gorgeous redhead woman step out. Her thick locks shined against the afternoon sun and her fit body was wrapped in a skintight turquoise dress. Her black heels clicked against the pavement as she briskly disappeared into a building across the street. I couldn’t see her face, and wondered how old she was. She could have been 20. She could have been 40. She could have been 50. The city had the effect of giving all that walked it a youthful drive, and a cloud of endless desire permeated the streets among the faint scent of car exhaust, reclaimed water, cigarette smoke, and Italian cooking. There was something intriguing to see on every corner, and I turned my head constantly as if to think I could possibly see it all.
Around 1:30 my phone started vibrating in my pants pocket. It was Kim, the woman I worked with at my last job. I answered the phone and she said that she was happy to have heard from me. She said that she had been wondering what I have been up to. I told her there was so much to talk about. She went on to tell me that Human Resources started questioning people in our department about me, and that once all of the directors found out that each person was being questioned, they pulled each employee in one at a time, and gave them a generic script of what to say about me. Before the directors could get to one girl, Human Resources questioned her and she told them nothing but good things about me. When the directors got wind that this girl stuck up for me, she was reprimanded for it. I was shocked at how far the deceitfulness of these people spread. How could an organization that claimed to be “Christian” tell their employees to lie to their own HR department? Kim told me that she would give me a glowing reference, and wished me the best of luck on my interview.
At 2:00 pm, I found myself interviewing with a woman who just may be my future supervisor. She told me all about the job position, and that she needed someone who could write about, talk about, and successfully sell their services among business leaders looking for continuing education. It was a position that required people skills and self motivation. She said she needed someone to help her in writing a large manual to promote the company’s services, and that this person would begin work in December before Christmas.
I showed her all of my work, and told her all about how since I left my job I begin publishing articles about the business model that I hoped to begin my own business with. She was impressed with my motivation and entrepreneurial spirit. I got the feeling of being needed. I was given the impression that I was well qualified for the job and that I was the best candidate. I felt so proud of myself that the majority of our discussion focused on the work that I had done since I left my last job – the writing, the networking, and the desire to strike out on my own despite the economic situation.
After about 45 minutes of conversation, I felt like I had known this person for 20 years. I was completely comfortable and so confident. I had not oversold myself, and since I have been developing my own business on the side, I still have that to fall back on. I wasn’t desperate, despite this being the only interview I have had in over 2 months. I was filled with positivity, and as of right now, I hope to hear back from this company with an offer in December. I was told that I would be contacted for a second interview after Thanksgiving, so I am now waiting to hear what will happen.
I’ve been telling myself not to get my hopes up, but it has been impossible to stop myself from dreaming. In recent weeks, I have felt myself naturally being carried away by the fantasy of being successful. I’ve been less frigid with my budget, thinking that it will only be a matter of weeks before I cash my first paycheck.
When I left the interview, I sat in my car for a few moments and had a flashback to the first week after I was fired, September 18, 2009. It was the day I got scammed out of $300 at the gas station. I remembered how in those moments that I was swindled out of my dwindling supply of cash, I was a victim of my own fantasies. In the same way that I dreamt of selling that stereo for 3 times its worth, and instantly making my money back, I was already dreaming of landing this job and being able to carry on triumphantly. I asked myself if this job interview was too good to be true, and told myself that it can’t be. Truth in life can’t always be pain and disappointment. As my friend told me, you can’t have bad luck forever.
To be continued…
Excerpt from Diary of a Corporate Burnout (http://diaryofacorporateburnout.blogspot.com/)