Thursday, August 03, 2006

Spectacular Underestimation

I have just read Ian's post.

Let me give you a bit of filler to plug the gap between Ian's interview and today.

When Ian heard about the job he told me he wasn't going to apply for it unless he was invited to. So, not only did the manager of the clinic make it quite clear he wanted Ian to apply, Ian's own manager made sure the message was clear; she would fully support his application.

Ian fretted, as one does before an interview but he hung in there. He pushed aside the negative and the fear and focused on the job and how much he wanted it. He even let me coach him on a few potential behavioural interview questions - albeit in the pub over a pint. Straight out of the interview he called me to say his first impression was that he thought he had done ok.

However, as the days passed Ian grew less and less convinced of his performance. No encouragement on my part could defuse the self-destructive exocet lodged somewhere behind Ian's left ear. By Monday night I wanted to detonate the bloody thing myself.

We hung in there together as the days rolled on with no news. Running parallel to us waiting to hear about the job was the fact that I thought I may be pregnant. Tension mounted as the days rolled along with the prospect of a long weekend by the ocean the only reprieve in sight.

This morning I did a pregnancy test which was negative. I was quietly devastated. The madness that surrounds the Am I or aren't I pregnant? question that I thought I had left behind came slamming back with such a force it left me gasping for air. I am okay now but the prospect of going through all this again is almost too much to contemplate right now. More on this when there is more to report.

So I left Ian at home this morning in the knowledge that he would find out about the job on Friday (tomorrow). We had had a great night at home last night as I discovered a curry house not far from us that delivers! We ordered big (or so we thought) as only deliveries over $30 were delivered free. When it arrived however we giggled like school girls when we saw that the naans were a third of the size of those we'd gorged on in England. And the rice portions were hilariously small. It was a good night and wonderful to hear Ian laugh.

Then, this morning at work I was running late for a meeting (that I had neglected to book a meeting room for but had at least managed to remember to pick up morning tea for!) my phone rang. I picked it up quickly as I saw that it was Ian. I explained that I was rushed but Ian managed to tell me that he had heard that he got the job. He seemed to be hovering somewhere between astounded and amazed. However, despite Ian's increasing self-doubt, I never, ever doubted he would get the job.

I am not one to air the family laundry so to speak, despite how open I can be. No, the trigger for this post is the line in Ian's earlier post where he wrote But... I reckon my referees must have done me proud!. I know that is partly Ian being a little self-deprecating but I wonder if somewhere, deep down, he really believes he can't possibly have had anything to do with getting the job?

Don't get me wrong here, this is not about me denigrating Ian in a very public forum. I just want to say how incredible I find it that a man who is so obviously intelligent, capable and truly good at what he does finds it so hard to believe that about himself. What is that about?


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