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...
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