I was offered a job! Well, if we are going to get all technical about this, I was offered two jobs! Ahh!
So now what?!
Well, for one, it means I'm moving to Madison, Wisconsin. It means apartment hunting and furniture shopping. It means another new city. And oh my goodness, it means car shopping!! Yay! I don't even know where to begin. That was a blatant lie. I will start with car shopping. And I even know which dealership to start at.
But really, first things first. I have to decide what job to take! One pays more and would require me to travel about 50% of the time. The other job pays less and has little to no travel. At my interview I was more interested in the job without travel. I liked the position better, and I liked the idea of less travel. While traveling had originally sounded charming and exciting, when I took a closer look at the schedule, 50% of the time is A LOT of time! If I move to Madison I will want to live there and get to know the area. Can I do that if I'm gone half the time?
As I'm talking this out, I think I know what job to take, but those of you readers with far more life experience than myself, what do you recommend?
Okay, pause. I have a job! Woohoo!
Gosh, I'm on the train as I'm writing this, and I haven't told anyone yet! No one knows. People will know before this is posted, but right now it's my little secret. My little secret that I am very, very proud of. Something I'm less proud of: I started crying on the platform while I was waiting for the train. I nipped that in the bud, and only had to catch one tear on my cheek, but it happened.
Showing posts with label interview. Show all posts
Showing posts with label interview. Show all posts
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Two Weeks
My stomach hurts. And it isn't from tonight's corned beef an cabbage at Aunt Patty's house- that was delicious.
My head hurts. The Advil didn't help. This is a pain from deep within my brain. I think it hurts from racing in circles for the past two weeks. What if I get the job? What if I don't get the job? Do I think I will get the job? Do I think I won't get the job? My mind is spinning.
My eyes hurt. It hurts to hold them open, but it hurts to close them. The sockets of my eyes are throbbing.
My throat hurts. Not the hurt that makes it painful to swallow, but the pain that accompanies a lump in your throat. This is the kind of pain you experience when something goes down the wrong pipe, but doesn't go completely down.
My back hurts. It's partially from running. It's partially from running with old sneakers. I promised to buy myself new ones when I get a job. Part of the pain is the stress of sitting at my awkward desk, obsessively checking my email inboxes. The rest of the pain is from stress. Down and back, Meaghan. Put your shoulders down and back.
My heart hurts. It has been racing since Friday morning, the day when I expected to receive a phone call. Even though I knew I wouldn't receive the call over the weekend, my heart didn't get the memo. Now it is tired of pounding out of my chest. It has been a long weekend.
Tomorrow I should get the call. Should. But I thought I would receive the call on Friday, and I was wrong. Tomorrow will be two weeks. At the interview he said two weeks. Tomorrow is the day. The seconds feel like minutes. The hours feel like days. These have been the longest two weeks of my life.
My head hurts. The Advil didn't help. This is a pain from deep within my brain. I think it hurts from racing in circles for the past two weeks. What if I get the job? What if I don't get the job? Do I think I will get the job? Do I think I won't get the job? My mind is spinning.
My eyes hurt. It hurts to hold them open, but it hurts to close them. The sockets of my eyes are throbbing.
My throat hurts. Not the hurt that makes it painful to swallow, but the pain that accompanies a lump in your throat. This is the kind of pain you experience when something goes down the wrong pipe, but doesn't go completely down.
My back hurts. It's partially from running. It's partially from running with old sneakers. I promised to buy myself new ones when I get a job. Part of the pain is the stress of sitting at my awkward desk, obsessively checking my email inboxes. The rest of the pain is from stress. Down and back, Meaghan. Put your shoulders down and back.
My heart hurts. It has been racing since Friday morning, the day when I expected to receive a phone call. Even though I knew I wouldn't receive the call over the weekend, my heart didn't get the memo. Now it is tired of pounding out of my chest. It has been a long weekend.
Tomorrow I should get the call. Should. But I thought I would receive the call on Friday, and I was wrong. Tomorrow will be two weeks. At the interview he said two weeks. Tomorrow is the day. The seconds feel like minutes. The hours feel like days. These have been the longest two weeks of my life.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Rejection Stings
I don't care how you slice it, what spin you put on it, or how much you sugar coat it, rejection stings.
For as long as I can remember I have had an unhealthy fear of rejection. I say unhealthy because it has limited me. My fear has kept me from doing things, saying things, and trying things. I have only recently accepted this fear as just that. In the past I wouldn't have known how to classify or describe it, but now, I can confidently say that rejection scares the bejesus out of me.
At the risk of sounding as though I am bragging, I think a big part of the reason I am petrified of rejection is because I haven't had much experience with it. When I think back through the years, I see a consistent pattern of not being rejected. I was accepted to honors classes. I was a top rower during high school and recruited by multiple universities. I was accepted to the two universities I applied to. I was hired by all the jobs I applied to after I graduated. I was accepted by CIEE to teach in Thailand. It felt easy.
Fast forward to the real world in the USA.
I am applying to jobs left and right. And, while I know that unemployment is currently at 8.3%, I really thought I wouldn't be in that percentage. Yes, I have a part time job driving, but it is not paying the bills. I need a full- time, dependable job with a consistent paycheck. Heck, I sent in an application to Whole Foods in hopes of being hired! And, no, I haven't heard back from them yet.
In January I wrote a blog post about not receiving an interview for a position I was very interested in. It stung. I was new to the job search, and hoped things would get better. With more practice and more time, I thought I would eventually find the right job. Well, it doesn't work that way. Yesterday I received another email that went something like, "after careful consideration we have decided not to move forward with your candidacy." And another one bites the dust.
Shoot.
Even after multiple rejections and failed attempts at being hired, it still stings.
Gosh, and I didn't even get into being rejected by men! That's for another post.
For as long as I can remember I have had an unhealthy fear of rejection. I say unhealthy because it has limited me. My fear has kept me from doing things, saying things, and trying things. I have only recently accepted this fear as just that. In the past I wouldn't have known how to classify or describe it, but now, I can confidently say that rejection scares the bejesus out of me.
At the risk of sounding as though I am bragging, I think a big part of the reason I am petrified of rejection is because I haven't had much experience with it. When I think back through the years, I see a consistent pattern of not being rejected. I was accepted to honors classes. I was a top rower during high school and recruited by multiple universities. I was accepted to the two universities I applied to. I was hired by all the jobs I applied to after I graduated. I was accepted by CIEE to teach in Thailand. It felt easy.
Fast forward to the real world in the USA.
I am applying to jobs left and right. And, while I know that unemployment is currently at 8.3%, I really thought I wouldn't be in that percentage. Yes, I have a part time job driving, but it is not paying the bills. I need a full- time, dependable job with a consistent paycheck. Heck, I sent in an application to Whole Foods in hopes of being hired! And, no, I haven't heard back from them yet.
In January I wrote a blog post about not receiving an interview for a position I was very interested in. It stung. I was new to the job search, and hoped things would get better. With more practice and more time, I thought I would eventually find the right job. Well, it doesn't work that way. Yesterday I received another email that went something like, "after careful consideration we have decided not to move forward with your candidacy." And another one bites the dust.
Shoot.
Even after multiple rejections and failed attempts at being hired, it still stings.
Gosh, and I didn't even get into being rejected by men! That's for another post.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
An Interview
I applied on a whim. My parents were at a party, talking to another couple and discussing their children. When my parents spoke of me and my ongoing search for a job the man chimed in. He mentioned his daughter, a medical software company, an interview, and the rest was history.
As I did my online research I discovered that despite my mother's assumptions, there are not offices located throughout the country. Instead, there is one office. That office happens to be located pretty much smack dab in the middle of the country, and not in NYC. I continued with the application process, unconcerned with the location. Any interview, or application for that matter, is a learning experience, so I forged on. Updating the resume, writing a new cover letter, saving in non-Mac formats and submitting online took me hours. I answered the questions with slight disbelief. They asked for my SAT scores and final GPA from university. How was I to remember my SAT score? I took that test 8 years ago... Wow, I feel old. I answered to the best of my memory, made a little wish, and pushed submit.
Immediately I received an email. I hesitantly clicked on the link to find a form message, thanking me for the submission. I should have known. I let out a sigh and stepped away from the screen.
Three days later I received another email. It asked me to take an online test to continue with the application process. I followed the prompts and began my exam which was slated to take between 20 and 40 minutes. I started with the questions, which seemed surprisingly similar to what I could remember as SAT questions. The questions, however, were interspersed with statements regarding my personality. I was forced to choose between four statements, which would be the most true about me. Even if all of the statements sounded nothing like me, I had to choose. The next screen showed me the remaining three options, forcing me to choose between them, and so on. When the test was completed I was relieved. But I was also intrigued.
Two days later, another email. This time it was a request for a phone interview. I scheduled the interview for the following week and set a reminder on my calendar.
The telephone conversation felt like just that: a conversation. The woman I spoke to was engaging, kind and wonderful to talk to. She verified scores, GPAs, and dates, but mostly, we spoke. She asked about Thailand. I asked about living in the middle of the country. She asked about my strengths, weaknesses and dreams. I asked about the available jobs.
Two days later I received another phone call. It was a new woman. She said, "your resume came across my desk, and since you will be coming out for a live interview I was wondering if you would be interested in also considering a second position. While you are here you will be able to hear and learn more about it and also interview for it." Stay calm, Meaghan. You didn't know you got the live interview, but this is great. Accept. I kindly thanked the woman, told her I would be more than happy to interview for a second position, and walked back into the restaurant to finish my glass of wine with Heather.
Monday I received another phone call. Another woman. Another resume-came-across-my-desk-would-you-consider-another-position conversation. I stayed calm, cool and collected, and gladly accepted. I had yet to receive a phone call or email asking me to go out for a live interview, but after the second phone call, it seemed to be more of a technicality.
Within a few days, my flights were booked. The only problem, was my flights were booked for the Sunday after the bachelorette party. I was forced to take the midnight bus to Chinatown.
In a way, it was a blessing in disguise. I arrived to NYC just after 6 am on Sunday morning. I was able to enjoy a few hours and a delicious breakfast with Kiki, my mom, and Erin before I jumped on the shuttle to the airport.
I had a direct flight and arrived before 5 pm on Sunday evening. I went out to dinner with a friend from college and a friend from Thailand, Cait, who was kind enough to drive 3 1/2 hours for dinner! It was a great night, but an early one, because I had an interview to rest up for.
I left the hotel at 7:45 Monday and spent the day interviewing, until I was in a cab at 4 pm for my flight back to New York. It was an excruciatingly long day, but it was great! I had three different position overviews, three different interviews, made one presentation, and took multiple assessments, but I made it through. And, I think I did an okay job, if I do say so myself.
I am currently waiting to hear back from the company, but I should hear by the end of the week. Fingers crossed!
As I did my online research I discovered that despite my mother's assumptions, there are not offices located throughout the country. Instead, there is one office. That office happens to be located pretty much smack dab in the middle of the country, and not in NYC. I continued with the application process, unconcerned with the location. Any interview, or application for that matter, is a learning experience, so I forged on. Updating the resume, writing a new cover letter, saving in non-Mac formats and submitting online took me hours. I answered the questions with slight disbelief. They asked for my SAT scores and final GPA from university. How was I to remember my SAT score? I took that test 8 years ago... Wow, I feel old. I answered to the best of my memory, made a little wish, and pushed submit.
Immediately I received an email. I hesitantly clicked on the link to find a form message, thanking me for the submission. I should have known. I let out a sigh and stepped away from the screen.
Three days later I received another email. It asked me to take an online test to continue with the application process. I followed the prompts and began my exam which was slated to take between 20 and 40 minutes. I started with the questions, which seemed surprisingly similar to what I could remember as SAT questions. The questions, however, were interspersed with statements regarding my personality. I was forced to choose between four statements, which would be the most true about me. Even if all of the statements sounded nothing like me, I had to choose. The next screen showed me the remaining three options, forcing me to choose between them, and so on. When the test was completed I was relieved. But I was also intrigued.
Two days later, another email. This time it was a request for a phone interview. I scheduled the interview for the following week and set a reminder on my calendar.
The telephone conversation felt like just that: a conversation. The woman I spoke to was engaging, kind and wonderful to talk to. She verified scores, GPAs, and dates, but mostly, we spoke. She asked about Thailand. I asked about living in the middle of the country. She asked about my strengths, weaknesses and dreams. I asked about the available jobs.
Two days later I received another phone call. It was a new woman. She said, "your resume came across my desk, and since you will be coming out for a live interview I was wondering if you would be interested in also considering a second position. While you are here you will be able to hear and learn more about it and also interview for it." Stay calm, Meaghan. You didn't know you got the live interview, but this is great. Accept. I kindly thanked the woman, told her I would be more than happy to interview for a second position, and walked back into the restaurant to finish my glass of wine with Heather.
Monday I received another phone call. Another woman. Another resume-came-across-my-desk-would-you-consider-another-position conversation. I stayed calm, cool and collected, and gladly accepted. I had yet to receive a phone call or email asking me to go out for a live interview, but after the second phone call, it seemed to be more of a technicality.
Within a few days, my flights were booked. The only problem, was my flights were booked for the Sunday after the bachelorette party. I was forced to take the midnight bus to Chinatown.
In a way, it was a blessing in disguise. I arrived to NYC just after 6 am on Sunday morning. I was able to enjoy a few hours and a delicious breakfast with Kiki, my mom, and Erin before I jumped on the shuttle to the airport.
I had a direct flight and arrived before 5 pm on Sunday evening. I went out to dinner with a friend from college and a friend from Thailand, Cait, who was kind enough to drive 3 1/2 hours for dinner! It was a great night, but an early one, because I had an interview to rest up for.
We had to take the typical Thai photo!
I am currently waiting to hear back from the company, but I should hear by the end of the week. Fingers crossed!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
"Get up in the morning and I can't keep it in..."
Oh, little blog, I am so sorry. I have neglected you terribly. I have neglected you so much, that I missed 300 hits! Whoa. But trust me, I have good reason. Everyone says that though, right? I have so much to tell you, blog! I am going to keep everything in chronological order so you don't get confused.
Right now I am hooked on this song by Gotye:
I am listening to it on repeat while I bust out a few blog posts.
Be prepared for another post about my weekend with Heather in NYC, a Virginia bachelorette party, another job interview, posts about podcasts, annoyances and weddings! Oh, there is so much to tell!
Right now I am hooked on this song by Gotye:
I am listening to it on repeat while I bust out a few blog posts.
Be prepared for another post about my weekend with Heather in NYC, a Virginia bachelorette party, another job interview, posts about podcasts, annoyances and weddings! Oh, there is so much to tell!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Every Job Must Begin With An Interview
Every job must begin with an interview, and my job was no exception. My job, however, began with -hands down- the most ridiculous interview ever.
About three weeks ago Uncle Bill put me in touch with a friend of his that does marketing for GM. I called the guy, per his request. He immediately told me he was interested in meeting me and asked if I would be available the following Wednesday to come to the office. I checked my nonexistent schedule and told him I would be delighted. He promised to call on Tuesday to firm up the details.
Just as he promised, Phillipe, as we will call him, rang me on Tuesday afternoon. I was walking to get a late lunch with Nicole, who was in town for the Knicks game. He asked if I was still available to go to the office and I answered yes, without even pretending to check my appointment book. He asked me to meet him at the East Village Meat Market between 7:45 and 8 am. I repeated his instructions aloud, to help me remember, said goodbye, thanked him, and put my telephone back in my pocket. I quickly wrote a note for myself with the time and location.
The next morning I woke up over an hour before my alarm, thrilled to have the opportunity for an interview. I showered, dressed professionally, ate breakfast and headed out the door. I planned to walk to our meeting place. According to Google Maps it would take me less than 30 minutes, but I left just after 7. With heels and nerves, I wasn't sure how long the trip would take, and I definitely didn't want to be late. I arrived at the corner of 9th and 2nd to find that the meat market wasn't on the corner. I had assumed it would be, thinking Phillipe would simply be driving by, and pick me up. I stood in front of the meat market, noticing it was open, and waited.
About ten minutes later a small black Buick parked across the street from me and Phillipe got out of the car. We shook hands and I followed him into the meat market. What?
Phillipe shook hands with the men behind the counter who immediately realized what they had forgotten. In his thick Polish accent the owner said, "Oh no! I forgot! I saw the girl standing out front, and I forgot what I was supposed to be doing!" Phillipe answered, "you sat there checking out the girl I'm interviewing and forgot my meat? Okay, okay, but please hurry. I need to get this to Frank."
Seriously, what had I gotten myself into? An early morning run to the meat market? Being checked out my the Polish meat man? Were heels too much for this interview?
Phillipe turned to me, apologized and asked if I smoked, he was going to go outside for a cigarette. I politely declined, but immediately regretted it. For the first time in my life I had the urge to smoke. I wanted a cigarette to take the edge off. That's what they are said to do, right?
I waited in the meat market, watching the Polish men slice unidentifiable meat after unidentifiable meat. Phillipe came back in and began barking orders.
"Oh, come on! We are going to need more than that."
"Don't hold back on me."
"That's not enough!"
"Half a pound?! No way! Give me at least two pounds!"
There was definite sarcasm in his voice, which gave me hope, but what was so special about this meat?
Then came the sausages.
Racks and racks of sausages were picked through before Phillipe committed to the perfect sausages.
Phillipe asked me for help with the bread, but quickly decided on whole grain, sourdough and olive loaves on his own. Phillipe eyed the doughnuts in the corner and asked if I wanted one. I could tell it was oozing with something fruity and said "no thank you." He tried to get one for me, but with the smell of meat and cigarettes, I couldn't even imagine trying to eat a doughnut. I declined again. The owner threw a free babka into one of the bags.
As each cut of meat was punched into the manual register, the bags were filled and double bagged. When the total rang $367 Phillipe quickly turned over his American Express. The Polish man looked at the card, and told him that they couldn't accept it- only Visa or MasterCard. Phillipe sarcastically criticized him, telling him he was too cheap to pay the fees, but found another credit card. Within seconds we were out the door, with our bags of meat and about 12 feet of sausages.
We put the meat in the trunk, jumped in the car and raced to New Jersey.
On the trip to New Jersey Phillipe explained the meat. Thank goodness!
The company has a very good relationship with Consumer Reports, and about every six months they bring them lunch. The East Village Meat Market is known to have the best Polish meats in the city, and the people at Consumer Reports love it.
Okay, I was feeling a little bit better. I was beginning to think this "small office" I was headed to was filled with Fred Flinstone- types, prepared to chow down on the massive piece of ham on the bone that was sitting in the trunk, without using silverware.
We arrived at the office, popped the trunk, and did the trade-off, putting the nearly $400 worth of meat in the next trunk. Frank walked out of the office, looking disheveled. His belt was twisted, his pants were falling down a little, and his shirt was wrinkled, but he was nice. He shook my hand, got into his car and headed to Consumer Reports for a feast.
Phillipe and I went into the office. He and Evan are the two owners of the company, and the only ones in the office. The two recently purchased the company from Frank, but as far as I could see, Frank is still around. Phillipe took out his doughnut and babka, sharing with Evan, and offering me some again. Evan then offered me orange juice.
I sat there with my orange juice, the two of them with Polish baked goods, and we talked about work. Within minutes, they were making copies of my license, and I was hired.
I am now a part- time driver. I bring cars to and from various journalists and reporters throughout the northeast, with hopes of working my way up the ranks of the car industry. My first day on the job I was able to drive the brand new Buick Verano!
As a girl that LOVES cars, this could work for me! Thanks, Uncle Bill!
About three weeks ago Uncle Bill put me in touch with a friend of his that does marketing for GM. I called the guy, per his request. He immediately told me he was interested in meeting me and asked if I would be available the following Wednesday to come to the office. I checked my nonexistent schedule and told him I would be delighted. He promised to call on Tuesday to firm up the details.
Just as he promised, Phillipe, as we will call him, rang me on Tuesday afternoon. I was walking to get a late lunch with Nicole, who was in town for the Knicks game. He asked if I was still available to go to the office and I answered yes, without even pretending to check my appointment book. He asked me to meet him at the East Village Meat Market between 7:45 and 8 am. I repeated his instructions aloud, to help me remember, said goodbye, thanked him, and put my telephone back in my pocket. I quickly wrote a note for myself with the time and location.
The next morning I woke up over an hour before my alarm, thrilled to have the opportunity for an interview. I showered, dressed professionally, ate breakfast and headed out the door. I planned to walk to our meeting place. According to Google Maps it would take me less than 30 minutes, but I left just after 7. With heels and nerves, I wasn't sure how long the trip would take, and I definitely didn't want to be late. I arrived at the corner of 9th and 2nd to find that the meat market wasn't on the corner. I had assumed it would be, thinking Phillipe would simply be driving by, and pick me up. I stood in front of the meat market, noticing it was open, and waited.
About ten minutes later a small black Buick parked across the street from me and Phillipe got out of the car. We shook hands and I followed him into the meat market. What?
Phillipe shook hands with the men behind the counter who immediately realized what they had forgotten. In his thick Polish accent the owner said, "Oh no! I forgot! I saw the girl standing out front, and I forgot what I was supposed to be doing!" Phillipe answered, "you sat there checking out the girl I'm interviewing and forgot my meat? Okay, okay, but please hurry. I need to get this to Frank."
Seriously, what had I gotten myself into? An early morning run to the meat market? Being checked out my the Polish meat man? Were heels too much for this interview?
Phillipe turned to me, apologized and asked if I smoked, he was going to go outside for a cigarette. I politely declined, but immediately regretted it. For the first time in my life I had the urge to smoke. I wanted a cigarette to take the edge off. That's what they are said to do, right?
I waited in the meat market, watching the Polish men slice unidentifiable meat after unidentifiable meat. Phillipe came back in and began barking orders.
"Oh, come on! We are going to need more than that."
"Don't hold back on me."
"That's not enough!"
"Half a pound?! No way! Give me at least two pounds!"
There was definite sarcasm in his voice, which gave me hope, but what was so special about this meat?
Then came the sausages.
Racks and racks of sausages were picked through before Phillipe committed to the perfect sausages.
Phillipe asked me for help with the bread, but quickly decided on whole grain, sourdough and olive loaves on his own. Phillipe eyed the doughnuts in the corner and asked if I wanted one. I could tell it was oozing with something fruity and said "no thank you." He tried to get one for me, but with the smell of meat and cigarettes, I couldn't even imagine trying to eat a doughnut. I declined again. The owner threw a free babka into one of the bags.
As each cut of meat was punched into the manual register, the bags were filled and double bagged. When the total rang $367 Phillipe quickly turned over his American Express. The Polish man looked at the card, and told him that they couldn't accept it- only Visa or MasterCard. Phillipe sarcastically criticized him, telling him he was too cheap to pay the fees, but found another credit card. Within seconds we were out the door, with our bags of meat and about 12 feet of sausages.
We put the meat in the trunk, jumped in the car and raced to New Jersey.
On the trip to New Jersey Phillipe explained the meat. Thank goodness!
The company has a very good relationship with Consumer Reports, and about every six months they bring them lunch. The East Village Meat Market is known to have the best Polish meats in the city, and the people at Consumer Reports love it.
Okay, I was feeling a little bit better. I was beginning to think this "small office" I was headed to was filled with Fred Flinstone- types, prepared to chow down on the massive piece of ham on the bone that was sitting in the trunk, without using silverware.
We arrived at the office, popped the trunk, and did the trade-off, putting the nearly $400 worth of meat in the next trunk. Frank walked out of the office, looking disheveled. His belt was twisted, his pants were falling down a little, and his shirt was wrinkled, but he was nice. He shook my hand, got into his car and headed to Consumer Reports for a feast.
Phillipe and I went into the office. He and Evan are the two owners of the company, and the only ones in the office. The two recently purchased the company from Frank, but as far as I could see, Frank is still around. Phillipe took out his doughnut and babka, sharing with Evan, and offering me some again. Evan then offered me orange juice.
I sat there with my orange juice, the two of them with Polish baked goods, and we talked about work. Within minutes, they were making copies of my license, and I was hired.
I am now a part- time driver. I bring cars to and from various journalists and reporters throughout the northeast, with hopes of working my way up the ranks of the car industry. My first day on the job I was able to drive the brand new Buick Verano!
As a girl that LOVES cars, this could work for me! Thanks, Uncle Bill!
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Just What I Needed!
Everything has been bugging me. My headphones won't stay in my ears. The wind blows my hair everywhere. As soon as I do the dishes my hands are completely dried out. I reapply lotion, and then I have gross lotion-y hands. My nose keeps running. Erin has been sniffling. Erin's new backpack is still sitting on the dining room table. Erin didn't do her dishes last night.
Oh, I could go on.
But, the point is, everything under the sun is bugging me. Heck, even the sun is bugging me. Whether it's too sunny or it isn't sunny enough, it's bugging me. But, I am aware that I am the problem. A sunny day? Having to put lotion on my hands? Come on, I'm the problem here.
I have spent way too much time in front of my computer looking for a new website I haven't already scoured for jobs. I have spent way too much time in a small apartment. I have spent way too much time not having adult conversations and interactions. And, I have spent way too much time with my sister.
The phone call I just received was exactly what I needed!
Last week I went to a job interview, thanks to Uncle Bill. The owner of the company was more than kind and told me that things are a bit slow at the moment, but he would be in touch with me towards the end of the month for some part-time opportunities. I was thrilled!
About forty- five minutes ago, he called me, and surprise! He needs me tomorrow! Woo hoo!
Tomorrow morning at 8 am I have a place to be! I have something to do! And the icing on the cake.... I am going to make money!
Just what I needed.
Oh, and while we were on the telephone, he said he received my thank- you note, it was very kind, and he appreciated it. A handwritten thank- you note works magic!
Oh, I could go on.
But, the point is, everything under the sun is bugging me. Heck, even the sun is bugging me. Whether it's too sunny or it isn't sunny enough, it's bugging me. But, I am aware that I am the problem. A sunny day? Having to put lotion on my hands? Come on, I'm the problem here.
I have spent way too much time in front of my computer looking for a new website I haven't already scoured for jobs. I have spent way too much time in a small apartment. I have spent way too much time not having adult conversations and interactions. And, I have spent way too much time with my sister.
The phone call I just received was exactly what I needed!
Last week I went to a job interview, thanks to Uncle Bill. The owner of the company was more than kind and told me that things are a bit slow at the moment, but he would be in touch with me towards the end of the month for some part-time opportunities. I was thrilled!
About forty- five minutes ago, he called me, and surprise! He needs me tomorrow! Woo hoo!
Tomorrow morning at 8 am I have a place to be! I have something to do! And the icing on the cake.... I am going to make money!
Just what I needed.
Oh, and while we were on the telephone, he said he received my thank- you note, it was very kind, and he appreciated it. A handwritten thank- you note works magic!
Friday, January 27, 2012
"Unfortunately....
"Unfortunately, we will not be able to extend an interview to you at this time."
Shoot.
I received this email in my inbox yesterday afternoon, and it was a total bummer. There was something about this job that sounded so perfect and right, and I was perfectly qualified for it as well! But, unfortunately, they were not able to extend an interview to me.
Well, it's on to the next thing.
I just got off a very promising phone call, so keep your fingers crossed for this one! I have an interview next week.... yay!
Shoot.
I received this email in my inbox yesterday afternoon, and it was a total bummer. There was something about this job that sounded so perfect and right, and I was perfectly qualified for it as well! But, unfortunately, they were not able to extend an interview to me.
Well, it's on to the next thing.
I just got off a very promising phone call, so keep your fingers crossed for this one! I have an interview next week.... yay!
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