So you’ve graduated. You’ve whored yourself resume to every company within the state. Most have ignored your glowing, overqualified certifications but some companies have been kind enough to reply you with a, “…though we find your qualifications competitive, we are sorry to inform you that you are not a suitable candidate for our company” which essentially means, “You are not good enough. We don’t want you” in more words.
But perhaps one or two have expressed interest. They would like you to come in for an interview.
This is the part where you would frantically Google the name of said company and attempt to remember exactly which position you’ve applied for. You would then spend hours trying to read up on why you want to be the salesperson for security systems and how you are supposed to project feigned interest and enthusiasm for their products.
You will also Google “What NOT To Do During An Interview”, and “Interview for Dummies”. After which you will practice in front of the mirror or with any of your willing family member. You will write notes and rehearse lines. You will will (not a typo) yourself to project confidence, passion, and all the other adjectives that Google told you to.
All of the above you will do repeatedly, like a mantra, a prayer.
On the day of your interview, you will stand before your closet and lament that you have nothing to wear. You will settle on that one skirt that your mother has been kind enough to iron for you and that one coat found in the pits of your wardrobe. You will convince yourself that you do not look like a child playing dress up.
You will get lost en route to the place and during the journey you will pat yourself on the back for being chosen by the one company that will require you to brave 2 hours of bumper to bumper traffic everyday with only two options of kopitiams for lunch.
When you get there (barely) on time, sit in your car. Check your reflection in the rear view mirror and other reflective surfaces for a difference in opinion. Inhale. Exhale. Adjust your coat, adjust your skirt. Check your breath, check your teeth, check your files. Once you’re done, check them again. Inhale. Exhale.
Fill in the given forms. Now you might think this is a simple task. And it is. But for some reason, you will make mistakes. And you will attempt to cross them out and rewrite. Your forms now look like the handiwork of a preschooler. As you hand them over, smile apologetically as if to say, “I am too dumb to fill in forms but I can little bit computer and England. Please hire me”.
Sit in front of your interviewer. Watch her body language. Arms crossed, body leaning away from you. Worry. Answer questions like, “Tell me about yourself” and “Why should we hire you”. Stutter and trip over your own words as you speak. Twiddle your thumbs. Wonder loudly (inside your head) why despite the years of public speaking training you still talk like a retard.
Go home and convince yourself that you have screwed up big time and the chances of you landing that job is as slim as your waistline will never be. Imagine the disappointed looks on the faces of everyone who’s ever believed in you. Wonder if you’d be better off whoring yourself at intersections.
Log into your email. Prepare yourself to send out more resumes.
Find this instead.
All the best for your job interviews. No matter how badly you think you screw up, relax. Who knows? You might just get hired.