Today’s guest post is from Molly Buckley who is a social media & marketing professional, a comedian, and an all around awesome woman.
I’ve been unemployed for five months. I wasn’t always unemployed. In fact, I used to have a great job teaching English to a bunch of crazy 10th graders. But, in June, I quit my job, packed my bags, and moved to North Carolina — and began what I now call the Dark Ages — a time where finding a job is next to impossible.
That brings me to my story. After three months of searching, I came across a job that was perfect for me. It was like spotting that hot guy across the bar and saying, “Bingo! That’s the one.” The job was actually considered a paid internship working for The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named as the lead on a social media and traditional marketing project. It was 20 hours a week, $1,500 a month, and exactly the position I wanted. I would be able to work for The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, get great “real-life” experience working on a large-scale project, and I’d still have time to pursue my own business.
I applied for the position and almost a month went by and I heard nothing. I did the follow-up thing with The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and got the run around for three weeks, “Oh, so-and-so is out of town,” or “Well, we’re still sifting through applications.” Great.
Another week passed and finally, my phone rang. I got an interview! I was PUMPED. I picked out my best suit and mentally prepared myself to knock the interview out of the ballpark. After my first interview, I knew walking out of that office that I had rocked it. I felt empowered. I felt good. I felt hired.
Well, a week went by and… nothing. Ergo, being the ballsy woman that I am, I followed up, again, with The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. The next day I get a call that they would like me to come in for a second interview, this time with the CEO, the very next day. Oh man! Time crunch, but that’s okay. I’m a pro now. I knew I had it in the bag.
I arrived at my second interview, once again, with confidence emanating from head-to-toe. I was told the CEO “couldn’t make it” so I was meeting with someone else in the marketing department. No biggie, I thought to myself, just a teensy snag in the rope. As I answered their questions, one of the interviewers even noticed that we were alumnae of the same sorority in college. “AWESOME!” I thought. A fraternal connection. Yet I maintained my cool, my calm, and my professionalism. I walked out of that interview just waiting for the call that I got the job. It was like seeing the hot guy at the bar a second time and knowing that this time, we were going home together.
A week went by. Nothing. Four more days went by. And I got an email. A bulk email. From a secretary. Looking back, it was as nice as rejection emails could be. The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named wanted to thank me for my time, but that they had decided on a candidate who more closely matched their job description. Except, it appeared as though the secretary had made a goof and forgotten to BCC all the applicants — so there was my name, amidst a bazillion other names being rejected.
I was crushed.
Then three minutes later, I got not one, but TWO “RECALL” emails from The-Secretary-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named asking for the email to be deleted. Too late lady, I already read it. You can’t recall something that someone has already read — unless you are a Man in Black and you have a flashy-memory-eraser-thing. The emails were the exact to the one I had already burned in my brain, rejection and all, only this time, with the word RECALL.
Clearly The-Secretary-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named knew she wasn’t supposed to send the FIRST email to the applicants with email addresses and names showing. Then three minutes later, I got ANOTHER rejection email. This time, The-Secretary-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named remembered to BCC her recipients.
Look, Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, I got it. I didn’t get the job. You didn’t need to send me FOUR bulk emails to reject me. I can read.
Three days later, my phone rings and I see on the caller ID it is The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. I didn’t answer — I’d let them leave a message. You know, play hard to get. I listened to the message and the caller asked me to call her back ASAP — her voice seemed cheery. I obliged. I took a leap of faith and thought – Yes! The hot guy at the bar made a mistake and wants me after all.
So, I called The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and was told, “Molly, I wanted to thank you for your interest in The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but we have decided to go a different route with the project.”
What?!?! Are you serious? You sent me FOUR emails and now you have to CALL me three days later to tell me, too? Thanks, but no thanks.
In the end, I probably wouldn’t have wanted to work for The-Foundation-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named after all. But still, rejection stings.
I’m still on the hunt for a job and I know, just like with men, the right one will come along soon enough. I just have to be patient, and not crazy.
You can find Molly on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, and performing at DSI Comedy Club. You can also find her having drinks and eating olives with her new BFF, Laurie Ruettimann, in the Raleigh-Durham area.