Back from hiatus

I guess I was too careless. I stood in front of VJ a little dumb-struck, wondering how I had overlooked such an important piece of information. Why hadn’t I asked where the interview was going to be held? VJ looked up at me with a trace of alarm in her expression.

“No, the interview is down at Student Services,” she said. “You know, the area where you go to chapel make-ups and housing? What time is your interview at?”

Mechanically, I reached into the side pocket of my bag, cringing at the ripping noise of the Velcro as I pulled the flap opened and dug around for my phone. 9:27 am.

“You brought your car? You’d better go.”

Nodding, I said a hurried goodbye and walked briskly down the hall of the Journalism office, trying to look as casual as possible. I rushed out to my car and took the winding path through campus to the parking lot next to the gym. As I approached Student Services, I saw a large line of students beginning to form.

I could feel my stomach immediately clench in my stomach. Did I miss something completely? I wasn’t even going to apply at all, since I won’t be here in the Fall. 9:32 am. Now I’m late to my interview. What should I do?

I had two ask two different receptionists before I was finally directed to the conference room where the Media Board was meeting. I wasn’t sure exactly what I had to do with the Media Board, but I tried to put it out of my mind. Aside from my initial anxiety, I didn’t feel worried because all of my interviews for The Point staff had been with Tamara. She knows me really well, so I had nothing to fear.

Why did she come down here to hold the interviews? I thought, as I looked at the wooden door in front of me. I shrugged to myself, figuring that she had something to do on this side of campus and needed a closer location for convenience’s sake. Slowly, I cracked the door open just slightly.

The first person I saw was Tamara, who waved me in. As I opened the door further, though, I felt my heart sink again. This time, I almost felt sick to my stomach. The conference room had a long oval board room table. Around it sat the entire media board, including professors and the chief editors for the other on-campus publications. I sat down at the head (or foot) of the table and tried to put on a brave smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said quickly. “I had a hard time finding you guys.”

Ugh, that was a stupid thing to say. Who says “you guys” during an interview? I didn’t know there were going to be so many people interviewing me. It’s like one of my recurring nightmares. I can’t believe I’m wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt. They must think I’m unprofessional.

I barely remember any of the questions they asked me—there were too many people staring at me, intimidating and unsmiling. The interview is a blurry mess in my mind. I answered their inquiries as best I could—how I would approach the magazine as the editor, what I would do with the budget, my plan to work with the magazine after I study abroad this fall. I tried to sound confident; I’m not sure that I came across that way.

Why am I smiling? I must look like a grinning idiot to them. I’m so glad Tamara is here. And Dr. Lister. And even Dr. Longinow. At least they know me. I wish I had been prepared for this interview. Am I making any sense at all?

After one final awkward moment of silence, they ran out of questions, thanked me for coming, and sent me back out. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I heaved a huge sigh of relief. I realize now that if I had known about the interview in advance, I might have spent a lot of time fretting and worrying over it. I’m glad it’s over and done with. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the Media Board decides.