On my own

This week, I got called to interview at my dream social service agency. I was fair in shock. I really never expected them to pull my resume out of the stack of hundreds. I didn't know anyone at the agency, no one who could put me in touch with the right person or vouch for my skills. Lately I've been feeling like it's almost pointless to apply for any jobs when you don't have a connection like that. There's no way to stand out from every other unknown person with the same recent graduation qualifications as me.

But they picked me. That alone was enough to make my week. Forget about the job yet; they just thought I was good enough to consider. Hello self esteem, welcome back.

And then I hit a home run with the interview. Or at least, it felt that way to me, and that's good enough for now. Or . . .

The dangerous part starts now. I haven't felt this way in a while, so I start to question myself. Like at the end of the interview, when I asked about the timeline for hiring, and would I be contacted both if they wanted or didn't want me to continue in the process. "No, I usually only contact those I am asking back for second interviews," she said (which, duh. That was a pretty stupid question for me to ask on only the first interview). "But you can always call me to check." In the moment I said goodbye, but hours later, I start to think, "But you can always call me . . ." Did she phrase it like that as a subtle hint?

I'm ridiculous beyond belief. I know that. But I'm also insecure to the max. I wish I could spend a few more moments basking in the pure joy of feeling good and confident about myself and my abilities. I got to this place by myself. On my own. And that's pretty great.