The worth of wondering

There's something about a job interview that is a lot like a first date. Correct name pronunciations are still being disentangled by the tongue. Hometown and hobbies are still being explored with half-artificial curiosity. The questioned person is struggling to focus more on what he or she is saying rather than on whether to look his or her interrogator directly or from a more attractive angle.

On Friday, I was wringing my hands under Skirt magazine's conference table in Charleston, S.C. While trying to exude the absurd combination of poise, confidence, wit, maturity and ease, I was grappling with the thought that I could only look so good on paper, and then so good in person.

And would my critics find me to be just as qualified in person as I was on paper? We really only have so much control over the way others interpret our capabilities.

So I sat there trying to ignore the question of a possible impending crash of my image before this editor and office manager. I wanted to make them swoon like a date on the opposite side of a dinner platter. There was only one editorial intern position offered, and I wanted to be The One.

So I tried to glide through the desired range of expression -- cheery to humorous to serious to pleasant to grateful. But never needy. Neediness would breach the air of professional distance and be deadly to any relationship. To triumph while maintaining a sense of self, we need the other person to need us.

The hour passed smoothly. It was a satisfying first date, even with the typical sense of doubt over whether or not I'd get that long-awaited phone call. And like most first dates, there was no candlelight, and no whisperings of sweet nothings.

But I did walk away with some spare paraphernalia from advertisers: a South Carolina Gamecocks lollipop, a red compact mirror enscripted: "You look beautiful!" (hey, thanks, female empowerment), a package of triple-chocolate cookies (not quite a box of chocolates) and a handful of business cards.

Even with my arms full, it all simmers down to this: Skirt is my summer dream employer, but am I the company's dream intern match?

And in a few weeks' time, if I am knocked down by a delicately-worded you're-so-very-talented-but-not-quite-what-we're-looking-for-email rather than swept off my feet by a job proposal, how will I react? How good are we at turning our pathetic blubbering from rejection into some fierce version of the statement: "If they don't want me then I don't want them?"

Should this be true of occupations? If we're not wanted by a company, are we really better off without it? The realistic conclusion to this question, like any relationship question, is that we'll never know.

Just because we're deemed incapable of involvement in this occupational relationship does not mean we're incapable of involvement in any relationship. That's just how things go -- what's perfect for us is not always perfect for someone else.

Opportunities will still present themselves. The market says so. An article by Michael Powell that appeared in The New York Times on April 1, "Job Growth Suggests Resilience of U.S. Recovery," detailed the nation's March addition of 216,000 jobs to the economy. The Obama administration said the unemployment rate responded with a dip to 8.8 percent, according to the article.

So there are other crayons in the box. And there is no other person out there for us who can complete our souls and make our retinas erupt in fireworks every time we shut our eyes (I'm pretty certain this is not physically possible to begin with). And there is no job that will gridlock us into the coordinates for eternal ecstasy. But there are jobs.

Powell's article included a statement about the national employment situation: "The first half of this year will be the best job market that we'll see in this whole expansion. After that, and looking toward 2012, the situation is questionable."

The future can be predicted but is still inherently uncertain. The positive point is, if you get to the interview stage at least you looked good enough for them to want to see you again, to have that meaningful conversation, to wonder whether you are The One.

So all we can do is keep on keeping on. We'll get somewhere someday, as long as we continue learning a little bit more about ourselves in the process, such as where we could see ourselves working, what ingnites glimmers of passion within us. And maybe even delight in the easy amusement of a few re-gifted trinkets.