I woke up early – too early – to take Tylenol for the pounding in my head caused by two martinis and a glass of wine last night. Thank goodness it was only two martinis. The urge was there to overindulge, thwarted only by the need to drive home safely.
I am anxious, my stomach in knots, going over and over in my mind the interview yesterday, dissecting my responses and finding them wanting, knowing I sounded stupid – or worse, like a pretender, like I was trying to be more than I actually am.
I hate this process. It brings out the worst in me, shows me the worst in me, makes me question everything about myself and my capabilities. It brings out the fear that I really am faking it – faking capability, competency, intelligence, ability – and everyone knows it, or is going to by the end of the interview. I feel small and stupid and unprepared and certainly unqualified.
Gah. Have I mentioned I hate this process? This job hunting thing?
I curl against Ad’s warm body momentarily, seeking comfort there, seeking safety, but it’s only a fleeting comfort: I have to get up and face the world now, work, write, deal with the dog and the rain and the teenager and my pounding head and the realization that I’m not “all that.” I won’t get that job because I’m not good enough, and I know it. Never mind that the reality is that the position really is probably too technical in nature, and that it is acceptable not to have the necessary skills because, hey I simply don’t have them, any more than I have an engineering degree or would be able to get a job as a physician. It is what it is, right? But in the wee hours of the morning (and in the grip of a hangover) it is not about being sensible, it is about failing, about not being good enough. I won’t get the job, not because I’m not actually suited to it, but because I’m not good enough.
It always comes back to that.
Sigh. Sorry for the morning whine-fest, but I had to get it out so maybe I can let it go and move on. And now, I am off to take my teenage son to school because he missed the bus. (Another sigh and a grumble as I listen to the pounding rain outside.)
More later, perhaps, since I really haven’t posted much about real life lately. If I can muster the words and the energy to do so.