How Dating Can Feel Like Applying For Jobs
By Jen Glantz
The nail-biting crunch time between applying for a job and waiting to hear back is enough to make you take just one bite out of your mozzarella and tomato Panini from Panera before you start to feel queasy and overcome with a case of the anxiety shakes.
But then, after weeks of doing ritualistic dances around your cell phone and countless hours convincing yourself that your Gmail must be broken, the news that you’ve been waiting for gets dropped off in your lap in all too familiar way—one that makes you feel as though someone just ripped out a chapter of the book He’s Just Not That Into You and sent it over as a job rejection letter.
Kind of like these:
It’s Not You! It’s Me!
Jen,
So nice to hear from you! Thanks for thinking of us.
Your qualifications and previous experience are excellent and a fit for our company. Unfortunately, we are not currently hiring. That said, I’m happy to hold onto a copy of your resume and will let you know if anything changes.
Thanks again and I’m sorry.
Jen,
I hope you had a wonderful weekend. Thank you again for your patience. I have had time to review your portfolio and think your work is great. At present, we do not have any editorial openings.
Warm regards.
I Like You, But…
Jen,
I am sorry to have to report that we will be filling the position with another candidate. It was an incredibly hard choice, which is why the process took so long. We were honored to have you as such a qualified candidate and are certain that with your impressive talents and skills you will make an incredible impact with whatever organization is lucky enough to have you.
The Auto Reply [aka] The “Player”
Jen,
Due to the high volume of resumes we expect to receive, we cannot personally respond to every candidate. We will review all resumes and follow up with candidates who are a good match for our current opening(s).
Playing Hard to Get
You don’t hear anything back. No matter how many follow up emails followed up by follow up phone calls followed up by borderline stalker-ish attempts to walk into the company and politely demand to speak to Ms. Human Resources, you hear nothing.
You sit at work, with your head in your hands watching drool splash onto the keyboard while you think to yourself, maybe next month I will finally be out of here and into a world where my office is on the 34th floor of some very tall building and wearing pantyhose is a standard way of life.
You go out to lunch with your friends from Zumba class and they ask, “Hey Jen, hear anything from New York?” As if New York is a person you have readily available on speed dial.
You wake up in the morning, wipe the thick crud out of your eyelids and whisper to your loyal teddy bear of 23 years that today, Mr. Wiggles, today is going to be the day! But you hear nothing.
Until one day, calendar months away, you are awoken in the middle of the night to someone claiming they want you. No, no, no, they need you. In fact, they don’t know how they ever went on without you. And as your heart begins to cave in from its state of constant bloating and the phone slips between your sweaty fingers, you end the pregnant pause and give in by saying, “Okay, I’ll freelance for you, just this once!”
Just this one time only.