I Make It Rain

I had yet another interview earlier this week and let me tell you, it was amazing that I made it there at all. I was having one of those mornings where an entire hour seemed to pass by in seconds, and the next thing I knew I was swearing at the clock as I realized that I should have left for my interview five minutes ago.

I frantically tried to put on my shoes – not an easy task since I had decided to wear espadrilles. If I were a normal person, I would have just looped the ribbon around my ankle, tied it in a knot, and called it a day. Clearly, that's not my style. I had picked up my espadrilles in Madrid a few years back; while I was there I was delighted to discover that Calle Toledo was full of little stores that sold espadrilles for a fraction of the price that they retailed for back in the US, even with the dismal exchange rate. Of course, I went buck wild and picked up about half a dozen pairs of shoes. (Like you wouldn’t have done the same.) While I was stocking up on a lifetime’s worth of espadrilles, the store owner gave me an espadrille tying tutorial that I have never forgotten. His method results in a securely tied shoe that still allows blood circulation; however, his method is also a bit time intensive which is problematic when you’re already running late.

Now you might be wondering why I elected to wear espadrilles to a job interview. Um, because espadrilles completed my outfit. Let me clarify: I had explicitly been told that the office dress code was quite casual, and I had witnessed said casual dress code firsthand the week before at my first round interview. Therefore goodbye black wool suit and hello cute (but professional) summer dress and espadrilles.

As I was driving to my interview, I silently said a prayer of thanks that Chicago motorists seem to view speed limits as a helpful suggestion rather than a legal mandate. Despite massive amounts of construction, traffic continued to move, and I managed to make it to my interview nice and early after all. Once there, I relaxed in my car for a few minutes and then decided to head into the office. I swung by the ladies room to touch up my lip gloss, and when I reached into my purse I made quite an entertaining discovery: a bright blue penis straw. Note to self: when taking the same purse to an interview that you took to a bachelorette party a couple of nights ago, be sure to give the contents a quick rummage before you leave the house. As it turned out, though, my rather inappropriate straw turned out to be my lucky charm.

I interviewed with three different people and at the end of the afternoon I sat down with the president of the company to debrief. Apparently it had gone well because he made me a job offer on the spot. What, you don’t want to meet with the team and debate and get back to me next month or perhaps the month after that? Excellent.

You might think that I’d be jumping for joy, but I’m still too surprised to really react. I have been hearing “no” for the past year and a half so I don’t even know how to respond to “yes”. At this point, I’m relieved more than anything; that being said, I’m not planning any parades just yet. In any other year, there is no way that an MBA would even consider this role. But it is this year and here I am. To be fair, this job is far superior to my BATNA (Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement) which is unemployment.

Another bonus? I am now a much more desirable candidate simply because someone else wants me. (Hmm, this sounds a lot like dating.) I had a couple of calls this week and the recruiters were much more responsive when I dropped the “I have another offer” card. All of a sudden, they can’t get me in for interviews quickly enough. To be continued folks...

Smoke and Mirrors

Earlier this week, I had an interview in downtown Chicago. (See, I told you that I’ve interviewed in places other than NYC!) At this point, I have interviewed a number of times with a variety of companies; that experience has been minimally helpful as I have received virtually no feedback on my interview performance. In fact, the only comment that I was able to coax out of a recruiter was that I seemed “young”. Could you be more specific? Do I look young? Do I employ a younger vocabulary? Does my voice sound young?

Realizing that I can’t really do anything about the content portion of the interview – my experience is what it is – I decided to switch up my standard interview appearance. Hollywood, I’ve been paying attention: I know that you can transform a dowdy but smart librarian into a smokin’ hottie by simply getting rid of her glasses and replacing her bun with sex kitten waves. Logically then, the opposite should be true as well. If I wore my glasses and minimal eye make-up, then I should look like the ideal employee, right? I’d look both older and more intelligent!

Only one way to find out…

I ventured into a brave new world and actively chose to wear my glasses instead of contacts to my interview. It went against all of my instincts, but I sucked it up and put on my glasses like a big girl. (Let me clarify: I actually really like my glasses – I just generally dislike having something on my face. That’s what she said.) Anyway, you know what? I think it just might have worked.

I was scheduled to meet with three different people and to be at the office for about an hour and a half. In reality, I was interviewing at the office for almost three full hours. The good news was that it didn’t feel like I was there for three hours – the time went by quickly. Well, time went by quickly until my last interview when all of a sudden I realized that: 1) I was starving, and 2) I had a headache from wearing my glasses. I’ve certainly been through worse in interviews though so I pushed ahead and mentally reminded myself to keep my eye on the prize: employment.

Key takeaway: Maybe appearance IS everything.

Better Luck Next Time

Hello Candidate,

Thank you for the follow-up.

It was nice meeting you and I thank you for coming to [said location] to meet with us in person. At this time we will not be moving forward with your candidacy for the Assistant Marketing Manager position. We have selected a candidate who is more aligned with our specific needs.

Once again, thank you for your interest in our company and best wishes in your career search! Based on your experience and skills, we are sure that you will have no problem finding an exciting opportunity.

Regards,
Recruiter

Translation...

Yo Candidate,

Thank you for following up with us after we gave you a totally inaccurate decision timeline. By “week” we meant “month”.

We appreciate you traveling to our neck of the woods to meet with the marketing team in person, but at this point you are no longer a contender for the Assistant Marketing Manager position. We have selected a candidate who has shit tons more experience than you. Tough break kid.

Once again, thanks but no thanks. Based on your experience and skills, we are sure that you will have no problem finding an exciting opportunity cashiering at Walmart or serving up fries at McDonald’s.

Good luck sucker,
Recruiter

The Move of Shame

Here’s a fun fact: when I graduated last summer, I left all of my stuff in storage in Vermont. I thought that I was going to be on the East Coast so why bother to move my stuff back to Chicago in the interim?

Let’s analyze exactly how this decision devolved from “smart choice” to “why is my crap still in the Green Mountain state?”

June 2009 – I thought that I had a job locked down out east. Sure, I didn’t technically have an offer but the CEO himself told me that he wanted to bring me on board. He just had to wait to hire my direct supervisor before making a formal offer; I was fine with that because it seemed logical enough. Well if you’ve been paying the slightest bit of attention to this blog, you know exactly how this played out: my offer disappeared to the land of unicorns and fairies, never to be heard from again.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank that CEO for being a total douche, though, because the job was in Bumblefuck, Virginia, and I would have hated life there. So thank you for making that decision for me.

Upon the implosion of my post-business school employment prospects, I headed to Mexico to drown my sorrows in tequila. About two weeks later, a bit worse for the wear, I returned to Chicago carrying only one large suitcase (primarily full of cotton sundresses).

December 2009 – Nearly six months had passed since graduation and I was still in Chicago and still looking for a job. However, one thing had definitely changed: the weather. Chicago gets quite cold in the winter and unfortunately for me, my winter wardrobe was being held hostage in Vermont. Always happy for an excuse to travel, I hopped on a plane and headed out east to collect my winter gear.

I showed up at my storage unit to grab my coats and – HOLY CRAP WHERE DID ALL OF THIS STUFF COME FROM? My belongings had apparently mated during that period; surely, there hadn’t been that much stuff when I originally put everything in storage back in June. No matter, this was a problem that UPS could handle. I packed what I could into the empty suitcases that I had brought with me and shipped all of my apparel and shoes back in boxes. Books, kitchen supplies, and other bulkier items were left in storage to be dealt with later (Future Me could figure it out). After all, I was going to find a job any day now! And that job might be on the East Coast.

May 2010 – Almost a year after graduation and I am still in Chicago and still looking for a job. Well fuck. I finally admit defeat in this game of cross country moving chicken and decide to drive out east to move the remainder of my belongings back to Chicago. In theory, my acquisition trip would have been a great excuse to hang out and party with the second year students but… BUT I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I was (a remixed female version of) That Guy. You know, the guy who still goes to high school parties and wears his letter jacket everywhere even though he graduated almost ten years ago? Yeah, That Guy.

Frankly I can’t help but feel like a failure of the MBA machine so I would generally prefer to avoid social interaction with bright-eyed students who are still excited about the career opportunities that await them. Trying to keep a low profile, I didn’t explicitly broadcast my visit. Anyone who knows me will instantly flag this action as being out of character – after all, I was the woman who celebrated a birth week, not content to make due with a mere birth day.

While the move was technically a success, it definitely felt like the move of shame. But you know what? It will just feel that much sweeter when I finally return to campus as a triumphantly employed alum. Plus I have virtually guaranteed myself employment out east by moving all of my stuff back to the Midwest.

Can't Get No Satisfaction

Recently I have been struggling to stay motivated. I am accustomed to seeing a certain correlation between effort and outcome; the job search however operates with a completely different set of rules. I am constantly busy with recruiting activities – conference calls, networking emails, interviews – but the return on these efforts has been dismally low. If my RORI (Return on Recruiting Investment) represented a business opportunity, I wouldn’t touch it with a 10 foot stick.

My motivation may be slipping but that doesn’t mean that I’m any less focused on recruiting. Au contraire, the employment search is almost constantly on my mind. I’m like a man, except instead of thinking about sex every 10 seconds, I think about finding a job:

This is definitely the year. Go Cubs!
JOB…
Who sings the Ghostbusters song?
JOB…
Hot yoga is totally overrated.
JOB…
Medium or large coffee?
JOB…
Maybe I’ll be a (slutty) Morton Salt girl for Halloween.
JOB…
Wonder if I could get a good deal on a Greek vacation right now?
JOB…
This isn’t where I parked my car.
JOB…
JOB…
JOB…