"Why should we hire you?"
I'm staring at my foot, which is tapping all by itself. I don't think it's stopped tapping for the past six months. After a moment of silence, I look up, realizing I've missed something. "Excuse me?"
The man raises an eyebrow and half-smiles. He's sitting on the other side of a large desk, and I don't think he realizes how enthroned he looks to me. I dressed up for this interview, of course; dragged myself into a pair of slacks and put on some jewelry, so maybe he's deluded into thinking I am not a homeless, starving pauper. "I said," he begins again, "why should we hire you? What's special about Jessica Grosland?"
I feel a fluttering of weak-willed wings as something inside of me tries to get up. I need to say something. What's my answer? I know I rehearsed this in the car . . . .
The thing flops down again. Too tired.
"I don't know," I say.
The two people taking notes on either side of the main interviewer stop writing. After a moment's hesitation, they glance up at me, then look to their leader for guidance. He's scrutinizing me with an odd look on his face. "What?" he asks, politely.
"I don't know," I repeat, emphatically. Being honest makes me feel a little stronger, so I sit up in my chair a bit as I continue. "I mean, the last twenty-two guys didn't, so I can't really think why you should. I'm out of answers for you here."
The man's eyes go wide. All traces of a smile are gone from his face, but I've let the leash on my mouth loose and it's off to the races. "I mean, I've always tried to be a really good employee," I say. "Responsible, dedicated - but in the last few months it seems that I have lost everything I once was and now I have nothing to offer. I'm the girl nobody wants to take to the prom. And I guess it's because my dirty secret's out!" I laugh harshly. "I'm a nutcase! Whatever it is that makes it so people can get through the day, I don't have it. I lost it, and I'm not sure it's ever coming back.
"I thought that maybe if I got back into the world, tried doing all the things I used to do, maybe I'd come back to myself and be okay again - but no! The world doesn't want me anymore! Every time I get up off the floor, I'm pushed back down again. So I have to assume that this is where I'm supposed to be. This is where I belong now - at the bottom. Watching people like you do the things that matter. Why -" Now I'm gripping my fists so tightly my nails are gouging my palms. "Why do I have to be filled with these stupid ambitions when I'm trapped in a body that can't handle them?!"
My jaw clenches as I go silent. I'm breathing heavily now, glaring at my clenched fists. The not-crying that replaced crying so long ago feels heavy in my eyes.
After a moment, I hear the man cough. "Alright," he says. "We still have a few more interviews to do today. We hope to have a decision by the end of the week."
I nod, grabbing my purse as I stand up. "I look forward to your call," I say, and I walk out the door.
3 comments:
I LOVE YOU. Jessica, Those moments of clarity-of beautiful and brutal,radical honesty will always be underappreciated in this imperfect world. You're a HERO to Me. You truly ARE. You're wonderful. Bless You! ��
I know it's not the classic response, but I laughed all the way through this. The absurdity of the normal-appearing things we do. Go girl. There's something to be owned in that guttural honesty. And if you can't get a blasted job, at least discomfit the enthroned.
About 6 months ago, sure that the responsible thing to do when the Lord told me to hire my own replacement was to find another way to support myself, I put together a package and was invited in for an interview, following several other packages and interviews. It was going beautifully and I felt confident that I was going to be offered the job. I was chatting with a staffer and the CEO of the company, who was midway through an important explanation of their structure, when like the goblin whose brain disappeared into the pale green fog of the imperious curse, I entered a silent void (I kind of hope my face didn't look like the goblin's), then the fog disappeared and I asked him a pertinent and important question. That he had just fully explained. I wasn't offered the job (the CEO was mid-30s, wearing skinny polished pants and a hip striped shirt in edgy colors over square-toed soft leather shoes - I would imagine only polyester double-knit pantsuits would have been worse in an employee than a doddering grandma's apparent forgetfulness).
I decided afterward that it was the Lord, not an enemy, who intervened. Perhaps the Lord is walking with you down a different path than you think he is. Either way, you have a gift for writing. And I hope the feeling of abnormality abates. There are worse things than having a home differently from the way everyone else does.
Oh Jessica, I'm so sorry to hear this. It breaks my heart that you feel like you're worthless. To me, even when you have struggled, you've been able to pull yourself through again. You seek help and truly that's what a wise person does. I'm sorry that your job search is not going well. You have so many positive things to offer life like your stick-to-it personality. When I have seen you, typically, you have a smile. I know it's hard. Truly. I've been there too.
Jessica, I just want you to know, no matter what, you are of Great Worth. Maybe that's not something you hear much, and I know for me when I get depressed, it's something I don't believe. Truly though. God loves you if no one else. I know that lots of people love you though. Keep hanging in there.
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