If you haven’t read the first post in this three-part series, click here.

“He’s not here?”

“No, I’m so sorry. He’s out sick today,” said the secretary.

“I had an interview set up with him.”

“Oh, I had no idea! Let me take down your information…”

Fantastic. What a waste of a half tank gas. I turned on my heel and walked out. Driving home, I was upset. But at the same time I was already formulating my “Sorry to hear you were sick John! I hope we can reschedule…” email in my head.

I called Kirk first.

“He WHAT? You’ve got to be kidding me. He couldn’t even email you to let you know?! That’s ridiculous. You don’t deserve to be treated like this. It’s so unprofessional. You don’t want anything to do with them.”

This wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear. I was upset, but I didn’t want to give up on the job completely. I had applied for this position back in November. I had waited over two months for this interview! I called my mom. Unfortunately, she was at work.

“Hi Mom, it’s me.”
“Oh hi honey! What’s up?”
“I forgot, it’s Friday. And it’s noontime over there, huh? Are you pretty busy?”
“Yeah, we’re pretty slammed right now. Can I call you back in a couple hours when I’m on my lunch break? Is everything OK?”
“Yep. No problem. I’ll talk to you then.”
“Okay! Love you honey, bye!”

I hung up. And promptly started crying. At that moment, I really could have used one of her look-on-the-bright-side pep talks.

Now I had to call someone else. I dialed my beloved only sibling: my sister and psych grad student, Kelly. She can sympathize and analyze.

“Kelly?”
“Hey. What’s up?”
“OK. So get this…”

I launched into the story. We discussed it all for almost an hour. She never tells me what to do, but she can always calm me down. She’s got a degree in psychology. Sorting out emotional trouble is her forte.

By the time I got off the phone, I had driven past my freeway exit twice. Discussions with Kelly are engrossing.

Almost home, my phone rang. It was Kirk.

“Hey. I’m really sorry. I was too harsh earlier. I was just angry. I don’t like when you’re treated like that. I care about you.”
“I know. It’s OK. I’m nearly home. See you in a few.”

I didn’t plan on giving up on the job just yet, but I also thought that I should move a few eggs out of this one basket. At home on the couch, I opened up my laptop. Kirk had emailed me a link to a craigslist ad:

Hmm.

I picked up my phone and dialed.

To be continued… here.