Monday, February 4, 2008
Me, in between interviews.
Today's Tarot Card: Death
"This card is commonly misconstrued and does not specifically pertain to physical death. The Death card signifies change in your life brought about by the ending of a current situation and the beginning of a new one. While the card itself may be morbid, it actually represents exciting change in your life. Be prepared for new and exciting situations to develop."
Holy crap! New and exciting situations did develop.
First of all, the last two working days, I went on three interviews. Interviewing to me feels like going on a date. You have to dress up, you feel a little nervous, you want to make a good impression. I hardly slept both nights (yesterday, there were very exuberant Giant fans screaming and honking their horns outside my window. Go, Giants, by the way). And I have never been a serial dater, and so speaking about myself and making nice so many times in such a short time was somewhat overwhelming, tiring, exciting, scary, all of the above.
But I did well. The first interview on Friday was for a month-long freelance marketing gig, and I left the offices with a smile on my face, crossing my fingers, wishing and hoping. My interviewer told me she would get back to me by the end of the day, so as I baked cakes for Mom's party, I hovered over my cell phone (it got covered in flour) and carried it in my hand around with me everywhere I went. It never rang. I was a little crushed. I would have to wait all weekend to find out.
This morning, I got up early for an 8:30 interview at another magazine. This interview was for a permanent job. (I know, I know, I said I was not going to go there, but my friend hooked me up for the interview and frankly it's a good job for me: Better title, fun magazine, innovative marketing.) I think I could do well there. Apparently they thought the same thing, too, and within hours I got a voice mail for a second interview.
Third interview, my head is swirling. Freelance job or permanent job? I can barely concentrate. Where am I? What I am talking about? Luckily, it was with a human resources manager at a publishing company, more of an informational interview. After ten minutes, she looked up at me and said, "We'd love to have you permanently. Are you sure you want to go freelance?"
And there was the question of the day.
I felt so torn. All along I have been saying that I want to do freelance. I could work at different magazines and get different experiences, while getting paid well to do it. And most importantly, the whole reason for doing it, it would give me the flexibility to write.
If there was ever a time that I felt like there was an angel and a devil sitting on my shoulder, telling me what to do, this was it. And the devil, representing permanent work, was very convincing. Hello, great job, stability, benefits, health insurance, rewards! The devil played into all my fears, reassuring me that taking the permanent job was the right thing to do, the sensible choice for my career. I would be going back to doing what I know, and even though I might not be happy all the time, for sure, I can succeed in that environment.
The devil would have me convinced, and I would be excited about succeeding--this is so my pre-trip frame of mind!--when the freelance angel would pipe up, softly: What about writing? They mentioned in permanent job-land that they work until 7. That means I would come home at 8, very tired for writing. The devil interrupts: Freelancing offers no stability, no benefits, no health insurance, it'll be hard to get recognition for the work I put in, that is if I get work. It will allow me to afford a writer's lifestyle, but I have no idea if I will like it, and there's no guarantee that I will be a success.
I spent the afternoon, in a zone, writing emails to people I trust for advice, popping Rocher chocolates like they're good for me, until I finally fell asleep where I dreamed that I was on a plane that was on the verge of crashing. I woke up and checked my email. I got the freelance job. Starting Wednesday, five days a week for one month, 9-6, making good money. I imed Dan.
"I got the freelance position. I am leaning towards accepting it."
"I am leaning towards you accepting it, too," he replied.
I made my choice. What made me decide was this: Would I go to the grave regretting that I did not take this permanent job or that I didn't give myself the chance to try writing? It felt much easier making a decision after that consideration.
But then the hard part, both in interviewing and in dating. Letting the other guy down easy.
Superbowl Sunday: Football and Ikea furniture installation.
Are you watching what you are doing? Or are you watching the Giants slaughter the Patriots?
Posted by Yvonne at 1:25 PM