Packing in my mind

From no blog entries to a crazy number. I guess I forgot how helpful it is to get your thoughts out of your head.

A few weeks ago I interviewed for a new job in a new state. Anyone who has read the blog (oh, wait, no one does) knows that R and I discussed moving south some time ago as a result of his work issues. The job I interviewed for is in the new state. Company flew me down, put me up in a nice hotel, got me a car, the whole she-bang. Then a week later I filled out forms for a background check. Then a week later they had me take a personality test. And now nothing. I’ve made the follow up phone calls and emails and have been told, next week. Well, next week is here and still nothing.

So I am a bit sad and I am stuck wondering what I did wrong. I appreciate that I may have done nothing wrong. Working for a BIG company, I know that sometimes the hiring plan gets kyboshed, the role gets eliminated, or the time frame just changes. Hiring can be hard. They may have found a better fit for their company. And that is cool. I want them to find the right person for the job, and the kind loving adult in me says if that is not me, then so be it. They need the right person, and if I am not the right person, right now, then maybe I will be someday. Regardless, something better will come along if this was not meant to be. But the 4 year old in me really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY wants the right person to be me!

The “What if’s” have really been plaguing me. What if I really came across as a dufus? What if they called someone and that someone said bad things about me? What if they thought my credit was too bad to hire me? (Yes, they checked that too and I have a lot of credit card debt.) What if they saw that photo on Facebook that I was tagged in? What if they found this blog and didn’t like what they saw? What if my personality test said I was an idiot ax murderer who wouldn’t know which was the sharp end? And the biggest:

What if they saw through me and realized I really am a dufus?  What if they figured out that I really have been faking it for the last 15 years?

So I sit. And I wait.

Every time my phone rings I jump.

Nope, Target Pharmacy. Nope, Mom wanting to know what we’re up to. Nope, just hubby. All people and places I want to talk to as well, but I really, really, REALLY want to talk to Dave, or Daniel, or Tim. I feel like a racehorse in the

gates waiting for the pistol to be shot. Waiting for the gate to swing open, so I can take off. But it won't open. I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

But it has now been long enough that I wonder, do I want to talk to them? Do I want to hear from them now? Yes, if they are calling to offer me a job. But if they are calling to say “thanks, but no thanks” then I’d rather just get an email (which I have also been checking incessantly making everyone around me crazy.) I’ve convinced myself that I have not gotten the job. That way when they confirm my feelings, it won’t hurt so much.

But I still have hope.

Hope is such a dangerous thing. Hope will make you clutch things to your chest like a child clutches a teddy bear. I hope. That small flame in the back of my head. I still see it flickering. It has not gone out. Will they blow it out? Will it continue to flicker with no news either way? Or will it rage into a wildfire upon hearing that I got the job?

Hope.

I’ve sold and resold in my mind nearly everything in the house to get ready to move. In my mind I’ve packed clothes up for goodwill. Sweaters? Won’t need those where I’m going! I’ve made lists in my head of what basics we’ll need in an apartment for 6 months to a year. I’ve decided that a year would be better because then we could pay off some debt while keeping our living expenses low. I’ve debated the benefits of a studio versus one versus two bedrooms. Apartments versus condos versus townhomes versus single family homes. Pools versus no pool. Amenities versus cheaper rent. Cheaper rent versus safety. And location, location, location.

I’ve given my notice in my head more times than I can count. I’ve thrown my badge at my boss and screamed “I quit!” once or twice too. I’ve told my team a million different ways that I am leaving for sunnier pastures. I’ve dreamt of getting an offer and being given a lay-off notice the next day with 6 months of pay.  I’ve got every file I am working on totally up to date so that I can give notice without guilt or extra stress.

And yet I wait.

Tapping my toe in the gate.

Waiting.

Looking at my watch.

Keyed up.

Waiting, but trying not to wait.

I wait because I am afraid of calling. They are 2 hours behind and I can make a lot of excuses. I can’t call now because they just got in! Gotta give ‘em time to get rolling. I can’t call now they’re at lunch! Can’t seem desperate, but need to let them know I am interested. I’m afraid because I’m worried that they’ll say no.

This is why I hate job hunting. It feels like dating. I really like this position. I mean I like like, it. Should I call them again? Should I email? Am I coming across too strong? What if they smell desperation on me? Maybe I should play it cool. But I CAN’T!! I have a really hard time masking my feelings. I want this job so badly I can taste it. Anyone who knows about my interview can see it in me. Even A&M who don’t know about the interview, can tell that something is on my mind. They can see that I’m distracted.

So I intentionally don’t answer the phone. I put it away. I try to forget it. But that is like trying to forget

that you have a hippopotamus in your living room. When my phone battery dies I think, well, that was when they tried to call. I power up and…no such luck. Still nothing.

So I wait.

With my cup of hope held close.

Still packing in my mind.