I've been training for this.

These last few weeks have been brutal. A firehose of turmoil and aging parent issues back home, plus my job search hit six months. I haven't had an interview since June, so the idea of a Dry Summer took on an unfortunate meaning.

My mindset from the beginning of this process has been that things will work out because they always do. I'm a much more whole human than I was for most of my life, and I still managed to thrive from an unhealed, broken place. Why wouldn't things turn out well now?

I told myself it would take five interviews to land an offer. I wanted to do it in fewer (obviously), but knew several variables were out of my control.

I couldn't control how other candidates performed or if something changed about the job after it went live. I couldn't control not having the perfect past experience despite knowing I’m capable AF. And I damn sure couldn't control if the hiring manager already had someone lined up before the role was posted.

I could control how I prepared and showed up for each conversation, and how I leveraged each interview to improve for the next.

But even with the growth mindset and positive thoughts, this process has been incredibly difficult. I've felt frustrated, confused, angry, sad, disappointed and every other emotion you'd associate with a long job search.

The first interview seemed to go well…until I sat with it and realized I'd exposed all my rust. I wanted to change my answers to multiple questions, but it was too late. Damage done. I accepted defeat and created thorough answers in case I got those questions again.

That was interview #1, which meant I was one step closer to landing an offer. I just didn't know how long I'd be walking. Five months later, I'm starting to feel plantar fasciitis. I need new shoes and a new job!

The second interview went better. I got through the first round with the hiring manager but flubbed an answer with the second interviewer. I knew while responding that I wasn't getting the job. That was for the best. The commute would've been a lifestyle shift, including significant gas and toll costs without a pay increase.

The third interview is the one I thought would end the search. The hiring manager had seen my work, the role fit my creative background perfectly, and I impressed them with my writing samples. In fact, their feedback is part of why I started this Substack.

I was certain the interviews went well and the search was over. But as days passed, doubt came. It shouldn't have taken that long to generate an offer. Did I botch the informal chat with the team member? Did I say something wrong? How could that be given how well the interviews went?

Then two weeks later the recruiter called while I was at the airport. I hoped for good news. My stomach twisted at the beginning, but once we got through the obligatory pleasantries, it dropped.

I didn't get the job.

The recruiter kept talking, but I stopped listening. Disappointment and sadness took over. I wanted off the video call. “Please stop. Just let me go. You see how crushed I am. And no, it wasn't nice working together. This wasn't a partnership. You don't leave a partner in the dark that long and deliver this shitty news when I told you before you called that I was at the airport.”

As you can tell, this is where I experienced all those emotions I described earlier. Fortunately, I kept those thoughts to myself.

I took a knee in SFO after we wrapped up. Anyone passing by knew I'd gotten bad news. My wife had her hand on my shoulder as I tried to fight the ugly cry. What wonderful timing just before my six-hour flight.

It turned out to be a blessing. Sitting on that flight forced me to sit in all the feelings uninterrupted. And I felt everything until I didn’t have the energy to feel it anymore. By the time we landed, the sting had gone from a nine to a three. Not perfect, but a lot better than before departure. It took another week before my skin looked normal and the pain was completely gone.

I lost sight of something really important in the moment: this was interview #3. I said it would take five, so the rejection meant I had two more to go. It was the end of June, and since I had no pending activity, I knew it'd be at least August before another interview. Unfortunately, it didn't pan out that way. I ate a lot of resume rejection pie (even when referred) and saw fewer roles that fit my background and interests.

But after a 2.5-month drought, I finally get to step forward. Interview #4 is being scheduled! I'm both excited and terrified because I've been here before — crushing disappointment and all. That’s also why I feel incredibly well-prepared.

I've been training for this interview all along. And right now I’m in championship season form.

No matter how I do and what the outcome is, I'm prepared to handle whatever comes my way. And if it doesn't work out, I'm still one step closer to a new role.

We'll see what happens.

R