Move along, nothing to see here…

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.

 

 

Comments

  1. Michael Samadhi

    I know the feeling, that waking up in the middle of the night, thinking “I’m not good enough.” The people who don’t suffer from those kinds of self doubt are truly blessed IMHO. I mean I was the Chief of Staff to an elected official for 15 years, I’ve introduced myself at an interview by saying – “My name is Mike and I can do most anything you might ever need!” – Yet I still harbor those kinds of doubts in the wee hours of the night . . .

    You do know the solution don’t you?

    Ya – it’s more kinky sex. Solves everything! :) And make sure to take pics too! ;)

    Reply
  2. Dan

    Yes….know that. Sometimes it shows up as me when I’m down…me the…
    dil·et·tante
    ˌdiliˈtänt,-ˈtäntē
    noun
    1. a person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge. “a dilettante approach to science”

    you know? the other guy is real, I’m a fake.
    …..
    hey, your a mom. You’ve already made a difference!

    Reply
    1. Jade Post author

      Thank you for the kind words! Sometimes the “mom” part seems too difficult too. :-( I’m lifting myself out of it tho. Another day another dollar, or something like that!

      Reply
  3. Marie Rebelle

    One of the main reasons why I won’t change jobs, even though some days I really want to, is because I do not want to go into the process of job hunting again, I am a coward and am afraid I won’t be ‘good enough’.

    Good luck hun!

    Rebel xox

    Reply
  4. sexandweed.org

    I’m an actor and I hate interviews/auditions, but they are inherent part of my profession. My attitude is that the WORST case scenario is the status quo—I walk in without the part, the worst thing that can happen is I walk out without the part. They can’t go “We’re not going to cast you, plus you owe us ten bucks.”

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *