Put on Your Big Girl Pants! Or No Pants.

Although I had apple cinnamon oatmeal for breakfast (I had no idea it was in the cabinet, and I found it by shuffling through an old oatmeal box), my stomach is IN KNOTS. You see, yesterday I had my first real job interview.

Sure, there have been plenty others. There was the time I memorized six sheets of music to play flute in front of judges at James Madison University to be accepted into their music program. There have been the times I walked into restaurants and was hired for a multitude of reasons other than my resume. There was the Teach for America interview where, despite my GPS, I got lost in Charlotte, NC and stumbled in ten minutes late, to the displeasure of the interviewers. They talked to me for an hour. I felt great about my answers. And I didn't get accepted. And of course, there was the 1 AM phone call from South Korea, in which an accentless, faceless man grilled me with every question he could pertaining to education (when I actually started my job, my experience turned out to be of little help).

But this was the first real interview, or at least it felt like that. This was the first time I was applying for a normal job, one that you need your degree for, one that your five years of college will help you in. Where was it? Oklahoma.

Did I go to Oklahoma? No. I sat in front of my webcam, not having felt that nervous since I boarded a plane for South Korea by myself, with lots of makeup and a black suit jacket on. My friends advised me not to wear pants, since it was a Skype interview. I declined their advice. I interviewed for a job at an inner-city highschool, teaching English to adolescents who represent over fifteen countries and nineteen languages, and many who have never seen the alphabet. No big deal. After giving my shaky answers in fits and starts, I listened to the answers to my own questions. Guatemala, Honduras, India, Iraq, Pakistan, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia...

I receieved an email with a minor detail that needed to be addressed. I'm not certified to teach in Oklahoma. It's not a complicated process getting to that point, but I spent four hours researching how to do it. It's more than a little nerve wracking when you receive an email from your interviewer roughly thirty minutes after your initial meeting basically stating, "It was nice meeting you. Can you be certified, and how soon? Our principal wants to hire someone by Friday."

Yes, you're right, that is tomorrow.

Let's not even go into the chain of events that ensued in my brain, such as- where will I live in two months, I have no training working with highschoolers, I'm not even moving to Oklahoma for a job, the job is so I can move there for a boy, I don't have a pair of black high heels, who will ride with me on my 16 hour cross country road trip, and a multitude of other rabbit trails that would classically be defined as "worrying".

I don't think God will mind me stating this mid-prayer, because the prayer is somewhere in transit on its way back, but a month ago I prayed for a job teaching ESL to refugees, wherever God wanted me. (I am not officially certified to teach ESL, and I am not certified to teach highschool either). I am fine with this being a yes or a no. I am moving (down the street) in two days so there is plenty of motion to occupy my time and energy. I'm on my way to the beach right now so- there's no more productive feeling than progressing on your tan, right? So this situation is like all others- I'm asking God to do exactly what He wants and trusting that He will do that.

The nervousness comes from being so close to a favorable answer. The nervousness in the interview came from being a few years older and actually preparing and wanting the job I interviewed for. I used to fill out applications with the opinion that the employer could take it or leave it, and I used to interview completely unprepared, with the belief that "if it's meant to be, it'll be." A few years later I believe that if it's mean to be, it'll be, but it might only be if I want it bad enough and do my part. There's not as much joy in receiving something you didn't work for.

Hanna is back from her exam, and I'm shocked she got a 94, after finishing it in thirty minutes and studying two hours. I prayed she'd get an A though.

THE END!