Through blind luck, I managed to successfully do some rudimentary networking. At a party last Friday, I met a guy who's an upper-level employee at one of the companies I applied for back in May. I told him about my attempts to apply to his company, and he told me that they receive a lot of entry-level applicants so I shouldn't feel bad; however, he said that they like young people with a background in research and writing - I just need a way to get my foot in the door. He gave me his contact information, and I sent him my resume and cover letter. He forwarded them on to a division head, and she was impressed. The original guy got back to me, and he told me that I should be expecting a call for a screening interview in the near future. If I get through that, they'll call me in for an in-person interview.My size-15 foot is successfully in their door.
I am, of course, elated. In fact, I've been borderline giddy. It's all I can do to keep from dancing in the streets and giggling like a schoolgirl. The irony of sending out 55 resumes and cover letters for six months and then falling ass-backwards into an interview because of a kegger in Kittanning is not lost on me. At this stage of the game, I'd be happy with just about any job, but it's a nice bonus that this is actually a company that I'd like to work for. Furthermore, it's in Washington D.C., which would give me a chance to live in a whole new kind of place. This is a particularly nice thing to have land in my lap.
Of course, being a glass-half-empty kind of guy, I can't help but worry about the interview process. Despite my dexterity and intellectual saavy with the written word, I can be clumsy, nervous, and painfully awkward in actual conversations. I stutter, hesitate, and fill my pauses with lengthy "ummm"s and "well"s. In order to call up companies for contact information or to request an interview, I've had to practice speaking on the telephone because I tend to talk in a dreary monotone when I'm on the phone. You should have seen me in my room repeatedly saying "Hello, how are you today?" in dozens of different tones in order to find that right mix of casual but professional, definitive but humble, and cheery but mellow. A passing psychologist might have suspected me of schizophrenia.
You would think that someone with a Masters degree in English would have an easier time speaking the language. One might even think it a requirement for graduation. But no, I have to practice sounding natural. The fact that this is hard for me merely reinforces my already developing suspicion that I'm typically unnatural. For my upcoming interviews, I've typed notes with personal information and lines that I need to remember when talking to important people. I've even scrawled "TALK SLOWLY" and "SMILE" all over these note sheets.
My natural inclination when talking about myself is to make self-deprecating comments. It's a defense mechanism that's probably symptomatic of a personality disorder, but it's also a bad instinct in a job interview when you're trying to make yourself sound like the best thing to happen to a business since discount toilet paper. Lines like, "I taught English for two years because they couldn't find any chimps to do it for free," might not go over so well.
I've done a screening interview before. After I applied to my third job way back in April, a company in Uniontown called me up. I fielded the screener's questions for about 20 minutes, and I got off the phone feeling very good about the interview. A week later I got an email informing me of their rejection. Now I'm extremely suspicious of my own ability to assess a "good" interview. The screening interview is supposed to simply weed out obviously sub-par candidates in order to limit the number of people they have to talk to in person. Being weeded out by a company in Uniontown after a simple screening interview is disheartening. In retrospect, I can remember sounding very wishy-washy about my qualifications and doing my usual stuttering. I can see why I was rejected.
In some ways, the screening interview scares me more because everything relies on the voice. In person, there's a lot more give and take, and I can take my cues from the other person's behavior. I'm dying to get this damned screening interview out of the way. I don't know when it's coming, so I just have to be prepared at all times. (It's sort of like being a reader of this blog. You just don't know when to expect an update.) I'm excited and terrified at the same time. This sort of emotional roller coaster could drive a man to gorge himself on pumpkin pie. And that's exactly how I plan to excuse last week's diet.
One of the few good things about a lengthy and grueling job search is that I imagine that the job I finally get will likely seem that much more rewarding. After having my past examined with a fine-tooth comb, worrying about resumes and cover letters for six months, being flat broke, and subjecting myself to these painful assessments, doing the old 9 to 5 will probably seem like a vacation.
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The Interview Process: Creating anxiety in job applicants since "Roman Gladiator" became a full-time position.
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