I had an interview last Monday. I went into it feeling very confident and relaxed which is something that, as I’ve said, never happens unless I don’t really want the job. Except I did. The fellow had called me the week before and we’d chatted for something like a half-hour on the phone. He was very easy to talk to and everything he was describing about the position seemed to be exactly what I was looking for; it was the missing piece to fill a void I’d been unsuccessfully trying to cram other jobs into. He said he was excited to meet with me the following Monday and I could hear in his voice that he was. I was giddy when I hung up the phone, like a thirteen year old girl who’d just talked to the boy she liked.

I have this bad habit of putting all my eggs in one basket, as they say, and I kept trying to rein myself in. It didn’t work and I went to the interview feeling like I’d already gotten the job. We talked and talked—for over two hours. It didn’t feel like two hours and I was shocked when I left and saw the time. In closing, he’d said he was still interested if I was and of course I agreed. I asked if he had others to interview and he said yes. I asked that he let me know about the job either way and he said he would.

I was making dinner the following night when he called. Somehow, all the confidence I’d been exuding melted away when I saw his number on the caller ID. At the same time I was thinking that he couldn’t possibly have interviewed that many more people in one day, I was also considering that he’d had time to think about my interview and decided I wasn’t a good fit. As he spoke, I felt myself getting electrified. He offered me the job. What was more flattering was that he said he didn’t interview anyone else after he spoke with me. I thought I might spontaneously combust when I hung up the phone. I still feel like a live wire.

I start tomorrow. I feel really good about my chances of doing big things from here out. For so long, I’ve been spinning my wheels and getting nowhere. I wouldn’t know where to go even if I’d had traction. Now, at least I have a direction to go in, a path to cut and shape where previously there wasn’t one.

the path untraveled



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s