Stretching Yourself

How far would you go for that exotic vacation?
How far would go for those pair of boots you have eyeing forever?
How far would you go for that dress that catches your eye each time you pass by that store?
How far you would you got that dream job?... Well this one I know!

Two weeks back I came across my dream profile on a popular job site: it promised everything I could ever dream of: a good brand, an informal fun work culture, an entrepreneurial set up where you can exercise your creative freedom, walking distance from where I stay, and most of all, finally someone was willing to pay me for doing what I love to do: write, create, communicate! Further, I was the perfect profile fit in terms of my educational background and my work experience, which is rare and surprising. It seemed too good to be true.

In my excitement, I applied immediately, and made a spelling error in the subject line, which is like a sure shot way of getting rejected. Kicking myself, I resend the mail, this time, making sure that there were no silly mistakes. I waited with bated breath for 2 days, but there was no response. Then to make matters worse, the weekend came in the way. I have never hated weekends as much as I do now: they come in the way of my passion- looking for jobs and being approached for the same! Weekends, I have decided, are a precious waste of time. Anyway, to get back to the story, it was Monday, and I was brimming with excitement. It was 5 p.m. and still no response. By now, I was desperate, and desperate situations call for desperate measures. I started stalking the HR lady! I added her on linkedin, with a personal note introducing myself and how keen I was on the profile (read, I pleaded and begged), I checked her out on facebook (we had five common friends… beat that!!), and oh yes, I called the number given on the ad some 29 times in the next 2 days! By Thursday, I was about to lose my mind. I looked up the board line on google, and finally there was some response. Office boy politely informed me that “madam is in a meeting.” Through the day I spoke to the office boy five times, and I think he just got fed up of hearing my voice, so finally at 6 p.m. in the evening, I finally managed to talk to ‘madam’ for all of 30 seconds. I nearly choked with the excitement. She politely informed me that they have received hundreds of resumes and she will get back to me if I fit the role. I treasured those 30 seconds like it was the most awaited phone conversation from the distant love of my life.

FYI, I am yet to make any progress and I am planning to crash into her office if I don’t get a call soon!

P.S.: How far would you go for love? Don’t think you can put a limit to that…