I just want to put it out there--I'm exceptional. Everyone says so. Ask anyone--the chatter about me has been good. I'm on a roll these days, blending authoritative decision making with efficiency and startling good looks. I'm feeling downright chuffed with the amount of attention I've been receiving lately. It all started with the weekend we went to Brew Fest--a man approached me and said, not kidding, "You are really f****** hot"*--to today, when I was walking (no, strutting, because I've been feeling so cocky, remember) down the hall and our CMO said Lauren, I've been hearing such good things about you, people are literally singing your praises. After briefly wondering who would literally sing my praise, I accepted the compliment with a gracefully disarming wave of the hand and a "well that's so good to hear." Dare I say I'm exuding grace and charm wherever I go, whether it's Brew Fest, a cesspool of humanity if there ever was one, to my corporate office? I'd certainly like to say so, despite a significant career setback--I interviewed for a permanent position that I didn't get, despite being so exceptionally wonderful, efficient, an asset to any team I'm on, etc, etc. I hesitate to fully claim the grace and charm, however, because honestly if one more person told me how great I am yesterday, I might have punched them out. So I think that kind of ungratefulness probably negates some of the aforementioned wonderfulness, but hey. We're all just doing the best we can.
I spent some time on the floor of my sister's room, face down and only able to breathe because I was balancing on my cro magnon brow, while processing this rejection. It was particularly difficult to be analyze the situation from an emotionally detached standpoint at that point, as I like to do my most pressing life problems, but I managed to wrangle the left and rights of my brain into enough submission to come up with the following: Rejection is difficult to swallow regardless of the context, but especially difficult when there seems to be no plausible explanation for the rejection--when they told me someone else was filling the position, they took twenty minutes telling me why I was a fantastic candidate, and gave me not even a second of why I wasn't. It's the isn't I'm more concerned about, because how does one progress if they're always good? All I wanted to know was how I could improve, and they gave me nothing--only all the ways that I was deserving.
That is probably why I was most annoyed leaving the office yesterday, and frustrated above all else. This isn't even a case of me construing what I'm hearing to best suit my own needs, I was actually looking to hear what it was that I did wrong, or why I wasn't right for the position. Now I'm just wracked my self-doubt, and every time I hear something good said about me, I say a mental, "so what?" after. What's being so great worth, if nothing comes from it?
Luckily, I got an e-mail from a woman I work with that I respect very much, and, among other things, she said, I know you will do well wherever you land. Though it seems inconsequential, in that moment it was a perfect perspective clarifying point. My horizon before that line was limited to this job, this company and this peculiar rejection/non-rejection, but really, it's just the beginning, isn't it? And I am really, really good at most things that I put my mind to--good enough to sing praises about, to spend twenty minutes rejecting in the nicest way possible. So what? is right, but so what I didn't get it, not so what I'm great.
Now I'm full of vim and vigor, brimming with possibility, anxiously anticipating the future! Who shall I be! This, I think, is how I should have been feeling about six months ago. I've been a little complacent, but that is no longer! I am amazing! I will do amazing things! Just you wait and see!
Unfortunately, this new found ambition is coupled with absolutely zero patience, so I may throw up my hands in disgust in about 72 hours. If change is coming fast, why change at all! Said no one ever.
*Rumor has it that beauty is in the eye of the beerholder, so take the statement with a grain of salt. And goggles.