Showing posts with label interview. Show all posts
In what could possibly be the quickest hiring process ever, I came out with the long end of the stick.
August 17: Initial phone conversation
August 20: Lunch in Chicago
August 27: Interviews in New York
August 28: Offer extended
September 4: Start date
Translation: I'm hired! This is one of the many life outcomes that could've only been possible because of the lessons I've been accruing the past eight months.
Seriously, does it get more efficient and decisive? Just my style. No one likes waiting around and wondering "what if?". I treated myself to overpriced fro-yo to celebrate.
In addition to that uplifting good news, I spent the evening in a small business discussion group. There are always ideas and side projects swimming around in my head, and I thought it may be interesting or inspiring to listen to other people's.
Great experience, hands down. Honestly, I didn't expect to throw any of my ideas into the ring, mainly because none of them are particularly formed. There was a moment where the discussion leader singled me out, and I could've passed, but I decided to just blurt out my nebulous vision for the 'break it down' blog.
The enthusiasm and ideas that started bouncing around amazed me. And I managed to walk away with a re-imagined, and more viable, version of my initial brainchild. Maybe that's why I couldn't summon the motivation to work on it before; it already felt like a dead end. So, let's see if this concept makeover reinvigorates my drive.
sweet celebration \08.29\
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Labels:
everyday,
food,
interview
August 17: Initial phone conversation
August 20: Lunch in Chicago
August 27: Interviews in New York
August 28: Offer extended
September 4: Start date
Translation: I'm hired! This is one of the many life outcomes that could've only been possible because of the lessons I've been accruing the past eight months.
Seriously, does it get more efficient and decisive? Just my style. No one likes waiting around and wondering "what if?". I treated myself to overpriced fro-yo to celebrate.
In addition to that uplifting good news, I spent the evening in a small business discussion group. There are always ideas and side projects swimming around in my head, and I thought it may be interesting or inspiring to listen to other people's.
Great experience, hands down. Honestly, I didn't expect to throw any of my ideas into the ring, mainly because none of them are particularly formed. There was a moment where the discussion leader singled me out, and I could've passed, but I decided to just blurt out my nebulous vision for the 'break it down' blog.
The enthusiasm and ideas that started bouncing around amazed me. And I managed to walk away with a re-imagined, and more viable, version of my initial brainchild. Maybe that's why I couldn't summon the motivation to work on it before; it already felt like a dead end. So, let's see if this concept makeover reinvigorates my drive.
Barely 24 hours of my life passed by in New York City. When taking into consideration the whirlwind timeline of the trip, the mental tornado of interviewing, and the pace of the city flowing around me - I don't entirely believe that I was even there. I must have made it up.
It amazes me how different NYC feels from Chicago, even on our most bustling streets. Granted, my radius of experience in NYC doesn't flow very far outside of Midtown, but everything feels more narrow, crowded and harried.
Yet, I'm not necessarily uncomfortable there. However, I am not quite as aggressive in my crosswalking as those New Yorkers. I don't think they believe in standing on the sidewalk.
Everyone's first question after an interview is, "How did it go?" And you never really know the answer to that question until you're offered the job or rejected. This time around, here's what I did know upon walking out the door.
I was honestly enthusiastic about the opportunity and I feel like it naturally injected my conversations with life.
There wasn't a single area where I couldn't find a parallel between my skills and their requirements.
I was able to relate to everyone that I talked to on a personal level, which made the conversations enjoyable and reassured me that this is a company culture that I could seamlessly feel at home in.
Finally, all of hours that I spent there felt like conversations instead of interrogations - a measure that I always considered when I was on the other side of the interview table.
Now I'm watching the hours pass, hoping to hear from someone. Hoping to hear good news from someone.
passing through nyc \08.28\
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Labels:
buildings,
cafe,
interview,
nyc,
urban
It amazes me how different NYC feels from Chicago, even on our most bustling streets. Granted, my radius of experience in NYC doesn't flow very far outside of Midtown, but everything feels more narrow, crowded and harried.
Yet, I'm not necessarily uncomfortable there. However, I am not quite as aggressive in my crosswalking as those New Yorkers. I don't think they believe in standing on the sidewalk.
Everyone's first question after an interview is, "How did it go?" And you never really know the answer to that question until you're offered the job or rejected. This time around, here's what I did know upon walking out the door.
I was honestly enthusiastic about the opportunity and I feel like it naturally injected my conversations with life.
There wasn't a single area where I couldn't find a parallel between my skills and their requirements.
I was able to relate to everyone that I talked to on a personal level, which made the conversations enjoyable and reassured me that this is a company culture that I could seamlessly feel at home in.
Finally, all of hours that I spent there felt like conversations instead of interrogations - a measure that I always considered when I was on the other side of the interview table.
Now I'm watching the hours pass, hoping to hear from someone. Hoping to hear good news from someone.
Expect the unexpected. Plan for the worst. Call it what you want to call it. There's a reason that I do it.
I'm sure it's not actually just me, but it often feels like I'm incessantly the target of things not going as intended. And there are obviously many things in my life that don't go awry. It just so happens that the moments of stress and anxiety usurp those moments I'm my memory.
I started monitoring my public transportation timing and route to the airport yesterday. The 74 bus, walk one block, blue line to O'Hare. A one hour journey when I overestimated.
But then there was the bus stop where we lingered for eight minutes. And the crosswalk signal that I just missed, which delayed me the sixty seconds that could've gotten me on a train immediately. Despite the fact that blue line trains were coming every two to six minutes all morning, the next train wasn't arriving for ten. And then that train flew past: an express. Two more minutes later and fifteen minutes behind schedule, I boarded.
Thankfully I included a twenty minute buffer zone on top of my one hour pre-flight arrival. I made my way to Terminal 3 at as close to warp speed as possible, skipping traffic-jammed moving walkways and escalators, hoisting my suitcase up flights of stairs instead.
Hitting the self check-in kiosk exactly one hour before departure, I turned around to the security line and gaped. There were zero people lined up among the stanchions. For the first time ever, I waltzed right up to the TSA guy. In fact, I'm not confident in saying that I even went through security, it was over so quickly.
But, yes, that good karma would twist and turn several more times. Boarding occurred without any ado, my suitcase easily finding a space in my overhead bin. By 12:40pm, the plane doors still hadn't shut on our 12:25pm flight. That's when we learned that air traffic control had us logged as a 1:00pm take-off. Just sit tight another twenty minutes.
Then at 1:00pm another vague issue related to air traffic control was announced. Sit even tighter, now we're not taking off until 1:30pm. The flight itself was less than eventful, besides the woman behind me whose restless leg syndrome was rocking our whole row of seats. Oh, and the toddler two rows up who repeated the same indistinguishable phrase repeatedly while increasing his volume, as if he was practicing scales.
I started to feel relief coursing through my pent up body when the pilot announced our landing in fifteen minutes. He almost immediately reneged, getting back on the speaker to inform us that we'd actually be spending the next 20-30 minutes in a holding pattern.
So, just another routine trip in my life. At least my hotel room rate included a New York-style pie (a.k.a. pizza) bigger than the TV. Too bad I won't be around longer to enjoy the leftovers; I don't think they'd travel well.
room with a view \08.27\
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Labels:
buildings,
interview,
nyc,
urban
I'm sure it's not actually just me, but it often feels like I'm incessantly the target of things not going as intended. And there are obviously many things in my life that don't go awry. It just so happens that the moments of stress and anxiety usurp those moments I'm my memory.
I started monitoring my public transportation timing and route to the airport yesterday. The 74 bus, walk one block, blue line to O'Hare. A one hour journey when I overestimated.
But then there was the bus stop where we lingered for eight minutes. And the crosswalk signal that I just missed, which delayed me the sixty seconds that could've gotten me on a train immediately. Despite the fact that blue line trains were coming every two to six minutes all morning, the next train wasn't arriving for ten. And then that train flew past: an express. Two more minutes later and fifteen minutes behind schedule, I boarded.
Thankfully I included a twenty minute buffer zone on top of my one hour pre-flight arrival. I made my way to Terminal 3 at as close to warp speed as possible, skipping traffic-jammed moving walkways and escalators, hoisting my suitcase up flights of stairs instead.
Hitting the self check-in kiosk exactly one hour before departure, I turned around to the security line and gaped. There were zero people lined up among the stanchions. For the first time ever, I waltzed right up to the TSA guy. In fact, I'm not confident in saying that I even went through security, it was over so quickly.
But, yes, that good karma would twist and turn several more times. Boarding occurred without any ado, my suitcase easily finding a space in my overhead bin. By 12:40pm, the plane doors still hadn't shut on our 12:25pm flight. That's when we learned that air traffic control had us logged as a 1:00pm take-off. Just sit tight another twenty minutes.
Then at 1:00pm another vague issue related to air traffic control was announced. Sit even tighter, now we're not taking off until 1:30pm. The flight itself was less than eventful, besides the woman behind me whose restless leg syndrome was rocking our whole row of seats. Oh, and the toddler two rows up who repeated the same indistinguishable phrase repeatedly while increasing his volume, as if he was practicing scales.
I started to feel relief coursing through my pent up body when the pilot announced our landing in fifteen minutes. He almost immediately reneged, getting back on the speaker to inform us that we'd actually be spending the next 20-30 minutes in a holding pattern.
So, just another routine trip in my life. At least my hotel room rate included a New York-style pie (a.k.a. pizza) bigger than the TV. Too bad I won't be around longer to enjoy the leftovers; I don't think they'd travel well.
The day I found out that I was heading to New York for interviews, my head was floating in a haze I likened to ten cups of coffee. It may sound strange, but lack of focus is a sign of excitement for me. Some people may call it "cloud nine".
Surprisingly, the few days that followed found me relatively relaxed about the whole situation. I did my due diligence, but all the while felt confident that this is a fit. That was soothing. Until today.
Suddenly I started fretting about what to wear, whether I would remember the correct and important anecdotes, if I had done enough internet trawling for information.
But really, unless you're an attorney, does anyone wear suits to job interviews anymore? It's been awhile since I played this game, I'm still not sure how the rules have changed. I'm opting for a professional look that's still inherently me. I figure I'll interview better if I'm comfortable in my own skin.
So hit me with all you've got NYC. I'm ready to do the same. (And hopefully capture a few photos more interesting than my interview get-up.)
interview prep \08.26\
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Labels:
clothes,
interview
Surprisingly, the few days that followed found me relatively relaxed about the whole situation. I did my due diligence, but all the while felt confident that this is a fit. That was soothing. Until today.
Suddenly I started fretting about what to wear, whether I would remember the correct and important anecdotes, if I had done enough internet trawling for information.
But really, unless you're an attorney, does anyone wear suits to job interviews anymore? It's been awhile since I played this game, I'm still not sure how the rules have changed. I'm opting for a professional look that's still inherently me. I figure I'll interview better if I'm comfortable in my own skin.
So hit me with all you've got NYC. I'm ready to do the same. (And hopefully capture a few photos more interesting than my interview get-up.)