Today's Interview

Sitting in a suit in the middle of an office building, I've been here before.

Sadly, there's no way for me to really explain myself. My resume says that I'm impecable, but then I turn to my interviewer and smile.

My fingernails are clipped, my shoes shine, and my tie is straight. I trimmed my hair earlier that day and I'm doing the same ol' same ol'. I throw on the usual charm.

The questions are thrown my way: "What is your weakness?" "I'm a workaholic," I say, then throw on that answer everyone's dying to hear: "However, I've learned to balance and pace myself and keep a journal or schedule near me to do so."

Perfect. The crowd goes wild.

I'm told again how much a pleasure it is to know me. My hand is shook and I smile and thank them for their time.

I wait. I hesitate just for a moment as I leave down the hallway and watch the door in my mind's eye shut tightly behind me.

I walk.

"I'm a woman," I say to myself. That's why I won't get it.