I call it, Little Italy. A raised-bed of somewhat carefully aligned basil and tomato starter plants. If it’s too early to grow medeterrainian in Vermont, I guess I’ll have to start over in a week or two. Let’s see what happens.

For the last month it seems as if I was so focused on getting the job for which I had been repeatedly interviewing, that I lost a part of myself. I was all pantyhose and blazers and thank you notes. Then, after four long weeks, I had to get my references in order. “We want to make sure your references best speak to your skills for the role, we would never contact anyone without your support.”

Cue: me drafting a four paragraph email to my best-top-grade-A references; I described the job that I was a candidate for, the core values of the company–which so closely match my own, and if each professional reference agreed to it, who from the company would be contacting each of them directly about my qualifications.  I ended the email with a virtual hug, explaining how much I appreciated all of their professional support over the years and that getting the job would be a dream come true for me.

Did I mention that, in the end, I was not offered the job? 

Back to gardening.


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