When I got home on Monday, a folder awaited me on the floor. In it, a request to answer more questions for an Indy company I submitted a resume to ... on which they would base their decision to bring me in for an interview.
Of course I was happy they were interested, but my mind raced with what to say to make sure I’d get into their office. I spent all last night on it ... walked to Kinko’s at 1:15 a.m. (even after some motherly questioning from Jen), and this morning it was ready to send off.
I wanted to feel relief that I completed it before their deadline. Relief that it was finished, and I could sit on my ass and relax after work for the rest of the week. Or just relief to not have to think about it.
That didn’t happen. Instead, the morning devolved into a signature Elaine-type moment. I walked to the post office, paid the man my postage and watched him toss the envelope back onto the mail counter.
Sitcom-style, I had flashes in my mind of all the things I wrote in response to their questions. Should I have put this? Should I have added that? Was it too much? Not enough? I can’t let this good career move slip away.
On Monday, I felt excitement they were giving me the chance to move up in their candidate list. On Tuesday, I was tired from the writing and making sure everything was perfect. And on Wednesday, I looked at it one last time on the counter feeling clamped down upon because it’s out of my hands, and as I have been doing for months, I wait.
I walked to the metro and three times considered running back into the post office to ask for it back. I still had two more days after all. I could still write more for the first question. I could add more insight. I could do SOMETHING.
I pushed forward as I wondered ... Would he give me it back? Is there some rule that after the postage goes on, it can only go to the mailer? Would I go back and see beady, Newman eyes as he laughed? I could see "Seinfeld" unfolding in my head.
So I kept going. Even halfway down the escalator into the subway I paused and thought I should go back up, but I didn’t.
It’s en route. Keep your fingers crossed for me!