DAILY POST CHALLENGE

FIRST JOB INTERVIEWS, REMEMBER YOURS?  I don’t the first; I remember the one I failed.

My first job was baby-sitting, second job walking hots at Polo games.  No interviews, just told by the people to show up.  Next job Riding Counselor at  Camp Sloane a YMCA camp in the Berkshires–paper application.  Next untrained social worker for Child Care Service of Media, PA.  My father was friends with the director, all I remember of the interview was committing to Graduate School if I liked the work.  Liked it.  First job interview after graduate school, they were so desperate to find someone to work where most social workers didn’t want to work–Vermont–that  I think it was another case of a no pressure interview.  I was the only applicant, had good paper credentials and didn’t have two heads.  On the easy interviews went until job number nine.  I don’t particularly remember that interview, but it stands out among the rest because I failed the interview or should I say interviews.

The street has that you get jobs because someone you know, knows of the job, and thinks you are the one.  Well, that was what drew me to this job.  A professional colleague who would be my boss, urged me to apply.  The job was directing a an adolescent center at a very prestigious NY City Hospital.  In order to be hired, I had to pass muster with the big boss.  I was one of the two final contenders, but made the mistake of wearing the same outfit, I had worn to the first interview at interview number five.

I am far from a clothes hound, and, out of respect, I  try to dress for the audience, but frankly this was a very corporate job, and I didn’t have many corporate outfits.  Moreover, the final inerview was five weeks after the first interview; I probably didn’t think past what I had worn to the third and fourth interviews.  So it went.  I felt sad for my friend, but had been interviewing somewhere else and although the pay was a bit less, the work climate was much more relaxed.  Stayed at that job for 15 years.   The person who beat me out, left after two years, but I had long since decided life had made the right choice for me.

Sometimes failure turns into success. When it doesn’t,  life goes on and live long enough and have some luck and failures become something you forget or look back on and laugh.

Care and share, it will keep each of us strong.

Image: galadarling.com

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