Set Sail on the S.S. Self-Hatred

Well.

I still haven't heard anything.  But after spending all day yesterday reassuring people that yes, I did want the job, and yes, I'd thought about it long and hard, and yes, I was sure, I've sort of decided that...maybe I don't want the job.

But is that fear of failure and rejection talking, or the real, true me?  News flash:  the real Cara is nothing but a seething roil of fear of rejection and failure.  That's my shtick!  I've been kind of trying to overcome it lately, but old habits die hard and all that.  Any way, in this case I think my fears are justified.  They need someone who can jump in with both feet and take a load off the meetings manager immediately.  If I were hired, it would be because they like me, not because I'm qualified to do a mid-level meeting planning job.  The advantage I do have is that I know the culture of the place; most new hires don't last a year because the atmosphere is rather...special, in the Amityville Horror sense of the word. 

Actually, I think it's that aspect that I kinid of miss.  It's like a battlefield, and your colleagues get to be like war buddies.  But I can't negotiate the mine-laden terrain and learn how to march and fire and whatever else people in the army do at the same time.  Never mind the guy above me who was counting on artillery support and instead is being peppered with questions like How do you load this thing?

Good metaphor.  And a small example of why many new hires don't last.

So now I have about an hour to be sure that I'm sure that I don't want this job.  As sure, or more sure, than I was yesterday that I did want this job.  Then I have to figure out how to tell a bunch of people who spent a big chunk of yesterday wrestling with the decision of whether or not to hire me and conferring on the merits and drawbacks of The Cara Package that, Oops.  I changed my mind.

Do you hate me yet?  Because I do.

And worst of all, I still think I want some kind of job there but that possibility seems especially remote now.

I am fucking DYING for a cigarette.

Comments

[Theresa]

tough call. but whichever choice you make will be the right one.

don't you hate it when commenters get all zen on your ass?

[Erin]

Dysfunction is strangely compelling. They say it's common for returning soldiers to miss the adrenaline rush of battle. Of course, it's also common for returning soldiers to become addicted to sleeping pills and divorce their spouses. There's always that pesky little trade off, isn't there?