Since I was in the back of the plane, I was one of the last people to exit and therefore way in the back of the line to talk to a human in customer service. Despite having a cheery disposition for the duration of my eight hours in the airport, this was when I started to cry. How embarrassing. Standing in the back of the line crying without any tissue handy is just awful. People looked at me for a second and looked away. I wondered if this is where you cut your loses, decide that clearly the job at Northwestern isn't in the cards, or if since you made it this far do you keep trying?
What ended up happening is that United Airlines called me with an automated message explaining that they already put me on the 6am flight and I was good to go then, unless I'd like to talk to someone in customer service. Well, I wanted to talk to someone in customer service. They left a number at the end of the message which I luckily remembered correctly, and by some miracle, I got through to a human.
This human was sympathetic to my teary explanation and somehow replaced my United flight with an American Airlines flight, which was leaving in 15 minutes. While I was on the phone with her waiting for a confirmation number I had to make my way to the American gate, and I didn't know where it was. I asked a few people, hopped on a shuttle, then another shuttle and by some stroke of luck ended up at the right place. The attendant at the gate was nice and eventually contacted someone that gave her my voucher number, because of course, it didn't go through in time.
After arriving at the Seattle airport at 8am PST, I was finally in Chicago by 10:30pm central; a full and preposterous day. I planned on reading interview questions that night and preparing for the interview, but instead was dead to the world.
The interview went ok as far as I could tell. I didn't like that they were interested in me due to the previous government experience, and that this job would be quite similar. I also didn't like that this was merely step 3 in the process and there would be a computer assessment afterwards, and yet another round of interviews if I am called again. It's amazing that a simple admin job requires all this trouble. Still, to get to this stage in the game is pretty lucky. I am told that there are 200 applicants for every position at a place like Northwestern, so I must have done the right thing by jumping on this. If I'm not the right person for this position, at least HR knows that I tried. Again, you never know when life happens.
That night I watched Suze Orman's new special on PBS. I felt like she was talking through the television directly to me. She went on and on about how we didn't value work and weren't prideful about earning. We weren't honest with ourselves and with others about our finances and always stretch it to the limit when we shouldn't. This rang true to me. I wasn't being honest with anyone about money. The truth was that I couldn't afford to move to Seattle and I couldn't afford to have my own place in Chicago. I couldn't afford to only work part time at the yoga studio. I couldn't afford to be a bridesmaid and have a vacation at this time. I couldn't afford gifts I gave to my family and new interview clothes that I bought for myself. I definitely couldn't afford to be flying all over the country and I can't afford a car, which is becoming a needed item.
I joked with my family that night that I wished I could live on The Island of Aviva for just one year. An island which would have no ailing grandmother, no broke parents, no trips to Israel, no boyfriend, no weddings, no funerals, no births, no clothing stores, etc. Admittedly, this is a silly and selfish desire. A few months in and I would be lonely as hell anyway, wondering where my life went. Still, there are times where we want so badly to please others and be there for everyone else, that something slips for ourselves. I am afraid that by taking seemingly selfish steps, I would lose the support of those that have been most supportive. Yet, what will happen if I continue on like this?