Are we a big ol' group of judgers?

I started my new job this week and I'm slowly meeting all of my new colleagues. It's an interesting process of little assessments and once overs. Everything you say, how you say it, your body language...all of it...go into my initial feelings and ideas about who you are as a person. You might say this is judgmental and I would say you are right. Isn't that what meeting people is all about? I'd love to say I have forever and a day to engage in endless conversation that delves into the very meat and potatoes of your soul. But, I don't. And, if I do say so myself, I am a fairly good judge of humanity. Sometimes that's due to my savvy people skills. Sometimes it's because you lay it out on the table.

At my first meeting today, one of my colleagues said she doesn't like people. Now, this is an interesting statement to make considering 1) I am a person and you are saying this to me; and 2) the very nature of our work demands that you have interactions with a multitude of people all day long with little respite. This gives me pause. Of course, there were clarifying remarks that followed ensuring that I was not to take this personally and that her dislike of people did not include me. Um, are you sure? You just met me and believe you-me, I can be as crappy and irritating a human being as the next guy (or gal). Maybe I give off some kind of "nice person vibe" or maybe I'm short and less frightening than most. The one caveat was that just as I was making my judgments about her character (I really like her, by the way) she was judging me in return.

I guess that leads me to the question...is judging a bad thing? Or is a little judgment just our way of figuring each other out? I think the answer is yes...to both questions. At least it can be both. It is human nature to try to understand each other and sometimes that takes a little "determining" about the person in front of you. But, sometimes that 'judging" becomes tainted with mean-ness. If my wondering about my new colleague means I'm making comparisons or thinking I'm better than that person, that's when judgment goes wrong.

So, the next time you meet someone new, decide if you are "determining" or if you are "comparing." You just might learn something about yourself.

Why would you like to work for us? Um, let me think...

Question: If you were a tree, what tree would it be and why? Answer: An oak - strong and long-living.
Question: What would you bring to our team? Answer: Flexibility, work-ethic, communication skills.
Question: What was your favorite movie and why? Answer: Mama Mia - music, drama, silliness all in one.
Question: Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Answer: I'm not sure...in your job?

Oh, those pesky interview questions. I know, I know...I look young (wink-wink), but I'm really no spring chicken. In fact, I've had so many jobs and been through so many interviews, you'd think I'd have the process locked in. Ummm, that would be a big negatory. In fact, I think the older I get and the more experiences I have, the more muddy my brain gets. Question: Can you give us one example of a time you learned from listening? Umm, what? I've been working for 24 years (since I was 13 - you do the math) and you want me to pick just one time out of all of those jobs to tell you about? My answer: um, um, um, um. I'm serious, that was my response. My first two jobs I was hand-chosen for "Hey, why don't we ask Sara to watch our kids?" Then..."to work at the bridal shop?" Then, my first interviews for K-B Toys and Wendy's had questions like "Will you show up on time?" "Do you have transportation?" Those questions seemed so dicey back then.

But, after years of figuring out just what I want to do with my life it all comes down to three 30-minute interviews and forty-eight serious, squeeze your brain questions that could decide my fate. I know...a little dramatic, but I'm being pretty serious...if I screw these up we might as well just move because there will be no jobs for me now or anytime in the future. So, the minute after I get the call for the interview, my brain goes through these series of thoughts...

Hooray, I got an interview!
Oh, crap, I got an interview!
What will I say? It's summer and my mind has gone to mush. I don't remember anything.
What will I wear? Black suit too serious? Skirt and blouse too young?
What if I screw up? So many people helped me get to this point - I don't want to disappoint them.
If I screw up, we're going to have to move.
We're going to have to replace the basement carpet before we put it the house on the market.
Who could we get to be our realtor?
Will the kids like their new schools?
I wonder what our new neighbors would be like?

I'm serious, my brain is that screwed up. But, I digress. I decided on the black suit - classic, right? With a teal youthful shirt to show them I'm not as old as I seem. I spend four days pouring over everything I've ever done in the past 10 years including schooling, volunteering, and job experiences and I pray. Okay, okay, my praying sounds something like this..."Dear God, if I get this job I'll never ask you for another thing ever." "Dear God, if I get this job I'll be nice to everyone, even my irritating neighbor." "Dear God, if I get this job I will be a better parent to my kids." "Dear God, if I get this job I'll call my mother more." You get the picture.

So, lesson one during this process...don't let my mind get ahead of itself. Lesson two...work on better prayers that are more realistic. "Dear God, if I get this job I'll be nice once to my kids today." :-) Well, this is a start, right?

Well, the interviews are over. They were rigorous...a.k.a. "gruelling." I did my fair share of "um's" and "can you repeat that question?" After a full afternoon I'd like to say I walked out unscathed, but my brain ached, my throat was scratchy, and somehow I rubbed the skin on my elbows raw. Yes, that's right...my body dealt with the anxiety of the interviews by grounding my elbows into the table. Half way through my last interview I touched my elbow and had blood on my hands [quick wipe on the black suit pants].

It's been five days since the interviews and I've finally come around to "it's okay either way." My elbows have finally scabbed over and I'm just glad they never asked me where I want to be in five years...is superintendant too lofty? In the meanwhile, I'm practicing my praying skills and looking at houses in Alaska (I hear they're hiring). To be continued...

Muggles for Harry!

Sporting HP 3D glasses

A fact about me...I pride myself on my personal library. I love the classics, literary award winners, those professional and intellectual challenges that make my brain hurt. I have belonged to book groups filled with intellects and love any opportunity to analyze the meaning and literary devices used in a book. Now you know -- I am a book snob.

But, can I tell you a secret? (Just between us friends, right?) In the margins of my vast snobby book list you'll also find a little heart around the name Harry and my new title Mrs. Jacob Werewolf written in bubble letters. Okay, I admit it, I love Harry Potter and Twilight. Between my bouts of shame I can be found cheering on Harry and his friends and their unendless acts of bravery or gasping at the thought of Jacob and his six-pack. And, yes, I know Jacob is underage...so, arrest me...in jail I'll have more time to read.

It has taken me years to become a Harry-loving muggle. In my own defense, I did try on a little Harry way back when and I couldn't get through the first book. Ugh! It was so frustrating -- Harry was constantly getting himself into trouble and NEVER asked for help from an adult. Dumbledore is the best...if I was Harry I'd be in his office daily. He can solve all of your problems and provide a little magical pick-me-up to get you through the day. And, yes, I get that the trouble is the whole point. But, good-gravy, he's only 10 and he's defying death!

As for Twilight, it took me a long time to jump into this series and then longer still to admit I read it. Then, even longer still to admit that I was envisioning myself as the wife of a werewolf and wondering what our children would look like. And, then to admit that I actually gasped seeing Jacob on-screen with his wolfy man-body. Okay, okay...too much info.

So, now I've come clean on all counts. Well, at least I've been honest about my literary laundry list of licentiousness. Oh, I love that word (and, double points for the alliteration). Yes, I'm a nerd.

And, now I'm wondering...what do you have to come clean about? Maybe you match your socks and underwear? You crave time with re-runs of Bevis and Butt-head? Come on, let it out...we won't tell.