A recent experience got my creative juices flowing again. I was contacted out of the blue via the job site Indeed from an employee at a local CPA firm. They asked if I would be interested in a job they had open. I reviewed the email and responded with my usual response: “Hi. I’m not a CPA. And here are my salary requirements.” Two days later I received a response from another representative of the same firm asking me to submit my application via Indeed, as they were interested in me.
After diving into Google and reviewing the firm, I felt comfortable moving forward. It ticked all the boxes for me. Accounting manager position (there’s a chance I’m getting a bit burnt out on tax) with a small local firm, hybrid scheduling. Check, check and check. I took the time during my anniversary lunch with my spouse to submit my application. (It’s the nature of the beast. Work finds a way in.)
I felt like perhaps a window was opening to a new world. One free of the stress and strain of the tax world and to focus more on my true passion — debts and credits. A world where it all makes sense. Numbers tie to the penny and it feels oh so good. A mere few hours later I received a response asking me to schedule an interview. I selected one of the times offered (a week away) and added the appointment to my calendar.
And that was the moment the roller coaster began. This was my first real interview in over five years. What would I say? How could I say it? I started to review the online surplus of what to do in an interview. Once I felt I had a grip on the process. Then emotions kicked in. Should I? Could I? Would I?
My brain embarked on a series of lengthy journeys, taking me down each path to make sure I was confident in accepting the interview. Over the days following I would fight the urge to cancel the appointment out of fear. A resume contains words. Words that don’t do justice to the merriment of knowledge, spirit, and fight I have to offer.
The day arrived and I was swirling between feelings of confidence and fear. Luckily for me it was a phone call so I could wear my lucky poker chip socks without anyone knowing. The phone rang one minute past the hour and I answered. We exchanged pleasantries with comments on the weather and then dived in. I provided honest, competent answers that barely cracked the surface on who I am. After hearing about the firm I asked a few questions. Responses were a bit cloudy as the representative was not familiar with the benefits offered for the position. The call concluded a brief 16 minutes later. Finally I could take a breath. I had conquered my fears and took a leap. Whether it would be worth it or not, I could not tell.
A few days passed and I had not received a response. Refresh after refresh of my email (after business hours of course) provided no insight. I recalled a section of Indeed that showed your application status of jobs applied. I clicked on the applications tabs to see in bold, red print “Not selected by the employer.”
Now I understand that not everyone is a perfect fit. With a large, diversified pool of candidates, it is understandable that I was not selected. But here is why I wrote this article: Contact those you interviewed with and give them the courtesy of a response. I took time out of my day to schedule an interview. I did not blow it off (as I hear is often the norm) and disrespect your time. To have received a response notifying me that I was not selected to move on in the hiring process would have been a relief. But to live for days in a state of hope and possibility only to have to figure out the answer myself was to say the least gutting.
Fundamentally we are all humans. Filled with organs, functions and emotions. Value everyone’s background, respect the time they give you, and treat them with compassion. This should be essential across all professions and aspects of life.
