Defeat

I never played a down of football. Never went through steamy summer practices in pads, never puked into a trash can after sprints, never prepared for a game. So I don’t know what it’s like to pour your heart and soul into something like that and lose the game. To put forth that kind of effort, to give your absolute best and still come up short. It’s something I can’t possibly understand.

But I did suffer a crushing defeat today. I interviewed for a job I really wanted two weeks ago, and I felt I had everything going for me. I’d done some volunteer work for them in the past—helping with some writing, so they knew who I was. Two of the three people on my reference list were men who were in the interview room with me. Ann’s boss (the third name on my list) knew the director and made a call on my behalf. I’ve interacted many times with them outside of this arena. The third person in the interview room, a lady, knows a coworker of mine and got a good report back (my coworker called me to inform). The position was for something in my wheelhouse, relating to things I’d done in the past. I can’t imagine the interview going better. Thank you cards went out that afternoon to all three people. In the two weeks since, I still can’t think of anything I would’ve done differently. I felt really good when I left the meeting.

So I felt I had a lot of things going for me. Midweek (the time frame last week when they said they’d know something) and the weekend passed with no word, while people are out twisting in the wind. It didn’t bother me much—they’re typically busy with their own jobs and the things that swirl around it. But I did find out first thing this morning from the jobs web site that I was not chosen for the position. From people I know and people who have been in my home, I got no phone call, no letter, no common courtesy, nothing. Just an empty shell where promise and opportunity once stood.

I don’t know what cost me the job. I just know that when a football team loses, they can look at film and improve or go to the weight room and get stronger. I don’t know what I can do—I don’t know what went wrong. How do I know what to fix if I don’t know what’s broken?

There are only questions with no answers, and stunning and utter disbelief.

And we go back to the crossroads.