Today I received a call from a very nice man letting me know that they would not be hiring me. Although it never feels good to be turned down for something, I must say that I was relieved. I interviewed for the position right before Christmas. A former journalist, the man seemed pleasant, witty and an intellectual giant (which is always both attractive and intimidating, since I am not one.) However, I was less clear after I left the interview than when I had gone into it as to what exactly the job description entailed. Everything was rather vague and as time went on and the actual interview started to fade from memory, I realized that I really had NO IDEA if I wanted this job since I didn't understand what it was. Hence the relief when I got the phone call.
As to why I didn't get the job, I really don't think it was because I was having so much fun during the interview that when the potential boss said they were looking for someone who could put a sentence together and help write fundraising letters I enthusiastically
screamed stated that I had a blog.
Oh, really? - [him asking with interest... thinking that he had found a literary gem and not the babbling, tired looking woman he had spent the last 20 minutes interviewing.]
Yes! - [me feeling "that common bond between writers" later to be realized as narcissistic lunacy.]
I could have given him the wrong blog address. I could have said that my blog was personal and not a public forum. I could have... But, in the moment none of this occurred to me. And so I found myself reaching into my purse and, as if in a trance, handing him one of my cards. Yes. I did. And he said he would take a look at my blog. Perhaps COMPLETE IDIOT and HOW COULD ANYONE BE THAT STUPID come to mind?
I couldn't get out of there fast enough, quickly realizing the error of my ways. Yes, Mr. Policeman, that was me in the minivan screeching around the corner on 2 wheels, madly flying down the freeway and arriving home within record time. Yes, Nosy Neighbor across the street, that was me thrusting my key into the front door lock and literally running back to the home office, leaping on the computer and going to my blog archive, fingers at the ready to DELETE. But, how much would I be able to delete and what? Well, perhaps I should take the most recent potentially offensive post out of circulation. Just that week I had written an entry about being so incredibly fabulous that I had moved up in the world and my blog could be found by the search engines under "butt crack clip art." Otherwise known as the gluteal cleft. Yes, there really is such a phrase. Probably comes from the French. You know how they make everything sound so much better. And I thought...maybe I should start there. Probably not an entry that would get me the job. So, I changed the post to "draft" and took it off the blog. Oh, but this was insane. What was I thinking!!
Oh, no! my friends assured me when I frantically dialed telling them how incredibly, STUPID I had been. They probably won't even have the time to look it up. [That JCK is really NOT an intellectual giant.]
Oh, O.K., you really think so?
Yes, I'm sure they have too much on their plate to spend time looking at a mommy blog. [Friend laughing hysterically while covering the phone with her hand.]
Oh, you're right. I'm probably just obsessing.
I love my friends, but they lie. To me. Often. I couldn't bring myself to erase the entry, but I did take it out of circulation and put it into "draft" status for a few days until I calmed down. It took me ... several days to calm down. I cut back on the Irish Breakfast tea to 3 cups a day, increased my intake of chocolate by 2lbs a day, and happy hour started a bit early, but who is paying attention? Then I decided, what the hell?! I don't even know if I want this job, and the butt crack clip art is going back up, by GOD.
So... the call came. Well, a month later. And I have NO idea if they looked at my blog or not. I do know that it is probably good that I was not offered the job. Because, every time I walked through the office I would have been wondering if they were checking out a certain area on my person, the location of my gluteal cleft. And that would have been, well, depending on the undergarment worn...rather itchy - at least in theory. Perhaps next time I'll just leave my cards at home....