It was a telephone interview, and since my sister-in-law and her husband were in the living room, I sat cross-legged on my mostly-made bed, wearing slacks and mascara, hoping my professional demeanor would be evident over the phone. One of the interviewers asked, "Do you feel that your schooling and your internships have adequately prepared you for your clinical fellowship year?"
And I said, confidently, "Yes. I absolutely do."
And it's true--I think I am prepared--but I still feel like I know next to nothing. And there was a little bit of quaking underneath my bravado.
There was a long pause on the line before the interviewer cleared his throat and said, "Care to expound on that a little?"
And even though I was sitting there with a word document in front of me that listed all of my glowing qualifications and prompts for answers to a plethora of possible questions (the only perk of a phone interview), I hesitated. It was toward the end of the thirty-minute interview, and I didn't know what more I could say. I already felt like I had repeated everything at least three times.
So I again tried to answer in a way that (hopefully) exuded confidence and charisma and that conveyed the message: "I am awesome. You should hire me." But really, when I hung up the phone at the end, I was exhausted. My confident veneer was hanging off in strips and tatters. Because while I do think I'll make a good employee, I don't think I can hold my own against people who are surely more awesome than I am.
And yet, while I have rational doubts that I'll land this job, I do have high hopes that I'll get another one. Maybe even a better one.
I just hope it's soon.