I think it was the first time in my life I had left an interview disappointed that it went so well. I should have been ecstatic, since I was unemployed, broke and looking to get into a full time writing position. But I wasn’t feeling happy that sunny July afternoon as I walked out of the tallest building in the city, I was feeling confused. Was this where my two degrees and near decade in the interior design industry had brought me?
In this position, I would write about mutual funds. Yes, it was tied to business development and yes there were opportunities to grow, but did I want to grow as a writer for a financial institution? Visions of the book, Confessions of a Shopaholic, danced through my head. Would I be the next Rebecca Bloomwood, writing about financial stability in the stock market by day, but maxing out my credit cards by night? Could I really write to inform people of something about which I was completely clueless?
I had spent the last six years as a DESIGNER. It was a career that allowed me to CREATE things on a daily basis. I had returned to school with the intention of bringing my two passions together: writing and design. The visual arts and the written word would somehow, in my naïve mind, mesh together and become my dream job. Yes, I know, life doesn’t always work out the way we hope or envision… but this?
I decided not to dwell on my fabulous interview for too long. Perhaps my charming personality and unfaltering wit was not enough to win a second interview. Perhaps the fact that my interviewer also went to Mount Mary College and remembered me from a class would play no part in the process. It was too early to be this confused. I was getting ahead of myself.
I went home, wrote my thank you card, stuck it in the mail and went to the beach. As for whether or not the job was the right fit, well I would cross that bridge when I needed to.