So, I cried during my job interview yesterday.
I. Was. Mortified.
Somehow, my interviewer and I began talking about being a mother and returning to the workforce. She told me it was commendable and I mentioned it was nerve-wracking to be jumping back into the work force after so many years out of it.
To be fair, my eyes only watered, but they watered enough that I had to wipe them away.
Thankfully, my interviewer understood and was very sweet about the two minutes I was a hair away from a complete emotional meltdown. She helped me compose myself and we continued the interview just fine.
I was so, so embarrassed.
I was flustered. I felt hot and wanted nothing more than to escape the room to the cool air outside.
But I couldn’t do that because my interviewer had taken pity on me and waved me through to a third and final interview.
Which I also botched.
I didn’t cry, but I made myself look like a complete idiot when he asked, “So what’s the end game? What’s your goal? What do you want to do?”
“I want to be a writer,” I said stupidly. “I want to write and publish fantasy novels.”
He smiled. “I’m glad you told me that, but what do you want to do within the confines of this job?”
Why the fuck would he care about my wanting to be a writer? That’s not what I’m interviewing for at all.
Alice, you are an idiot. First you cry and then you look like a total ass.
Miracle of miracles, however, my emotional quirkiness got me the job.
I start in a couple of weeks.
And I am terrified.
Terrified because it’s been almost a decade since I’ve had a job outside the home.
Terrified my son won’t secure a full time daycare spot in time.
Terrified my husband won’t actually be able to get off work early enough to pick up my daughter from the bus stop.
Terrified I’ll be so wrapped up in what’s happened at home and with my kids that I’ll cry again and in front of co-workers.
Logically, I know I’ll be fine. I’ll be nervous, but fine. I’m smart and motivated and this is only a part-time job — but I want to do well. I want to succeed. I want to be promoted and be able to transfer jobs when we are done in California and have to move again.
But I’m still terrified.
Terrified and excited and nervous and giddy and so many other things that I don’t even know what I’m really feeling.
All this to say — it is possible to go back to work after a decade of being a stay-at-home wife/mom.
It is possible to cry in your interview and look like an idiot and still get the job.
A little green aventurine in your pocket wouldn’t hurt though.