Around 1:00 p.m. every week day, I get a half hour where I leave the office, sit in the park, and don’t have to think about blogging or destinations I can’t afford. Then the other day I got an email for my boss requesting a lunch meeting. My half hour in the sunshine gone.
On the day of our allotted meeting time, I went to his office, where he quickly brushed past me without so much as a hello. As I stood in the hall clutching my bright blue spiral-bound notebook, I wondered what it felt like to not be the very bottom of the food chain. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, talking over me to my supervisor, he asked if she was ready, and as she grabbed her purse and he started for the door, I realized I had misinterpreted our lunch meeting. I ran back to my desk and grabbed my purse, I wondered where the heck we were going. As we rushed down the stairs, out the door, and down the street, I felt like a little kid again when my parents were rushing to some event we were late for. As we booked it across the street and onto the wharf, I had to run to keep up with my boss’s long stride. Without even stopping at the hostess stand, my boss announced our arrival, and the hostess sat us at a table. Without a moment to breathe or realize that we were in one of the nicer restaurants downtown, my boss turned to me and asked “So, Lauren, what are your plans for the future?” Plans? Future? Right now, I’m an MBA student who still cleans bathrooms on the weekend for near minimum wage. Yeah, my future is bright…
As the waitress took our orders (I ordered the first thing on the menu I saw without reading the full description), my boss etched notes onto a PowerPoint presentation I’d sent him. As I justified my worth at the company, I felt like I did back in high school, sitting across from my guidance counselor, running through everything I did in high school that would help me get into college.
“How long have you been with us? About 6 weeks?” He asked.
“Um, about three months…”
“What makes you stand out?”
“I write the blog?”
And as the questions went on, I realized this was an interview of sorts and I was failing. In my oversized pink button-up, black sweeping sweater and flip flops, I knew I wasn’t impressing anyone with my interviewee skills. Without letting me speak, my boss went on to say how he likes what I’ve been doing and to get to the gist of the story, they want to keep me but don’t have any place to put me, but they might someday if I stay and just keep doing what I do.
So here I am, actually a professional, career blogger. To think I was going to take a film class instead of that blogging class in college…