Dreams Do Persist

So here's the thing. My life is shit. I'm hanging on by a finger nail. But I had a good night, and so I've given myself permission to dream.

I had a job interview today. Now a couple of days ago, I had another interview, in which the two that led up to it I aced, but then bombed on the final third.

It was for a part time store security position in which I had practiced responses by now for the same standard questions.

But the interview took a slightly different turn when at first he asked me, "Why store security?" and then "Tell me about the duties and responsibilities of the position and how you intend to fulfill them." Which took me aback and I blurted out, "Well I haven't read the job description in over a month, when I first applied for it, but based on my responsibilities in store sales, I see it as such..."

And I think I blew it right there. I think the interviewer was not pleased that I didn't have the job description memorized and available right there.

So today, I had an interview scheduled for a furniture sales position, and area of fashion in which I have no experience. I was determined not to let that be a determining factor.

So I did the research. At first, I tried to memorize all the pieces they carry. I don't know what I was trying to memorize, but I went from page to page on their web site, looking at different furniture pieces, styles and prices, and quickly realized I cannot possibly memorize all this in just under forty eight hours.

So the next day, I decided to memorize the "About us" page, detailing the history of the company and where it stands today. I learned it is a family owned business, three generations deep. I learned about how it started in Cuba under a different name, and continued in America just seven months after escaping the Castro regime.

I learned about a particular designer who's signature pieces we carry ("WE" listen to me now...) but because of poor web design, when I did a search on the company web site to find his pieces, all I got was two pages of mattresses. And so I googled him and found his web site where I found many pieces designed in that Spanish/Mediterranean style that is so prevalent here in Miami.

I researched the names of the people I was interviewing with (again, with no clue or idea why, or what I might find) and found that one of the interviewers received a humanitarian award for saving the life of one of her co-workers on the verge of a major heart attack.

I arrived to the interview the next day and said, "I'm sure you have a lot of questions about my background and experience, but one of my strengths as a sales professional is I like to research and know about the merchandise that I'm selling, so that any questions that may arise in the process of making a sale, I have an answer for. That gives me confidence. And when I researched the company, this is what I found."

I had also researched design tips for furnishing your home, and learned about two design styles; the Modern and Spanish and some of their relative strengths and weaknesses. I didn't get to use that with as much detail as I would have liked, partly because it's an area in which I still feel I have much to learn, and partly just due to nervousness. I was after all, in effect, taking over the interview process; and indeed, when I stated I wanted to make a presentation, the first reaction I got was a pair of raised eyebrows and the comment, "Well, we really wanted to go over your resume, but go ahead." And so I launched into my presentation, at the conclusion of which, I patiently sat and waited for their questions. When it was over, and we shook hands to part ways, I asked if I came across as too pushy, to which one interviewer replied, "No, no. You came prepared. You had a presentation and everything."

And I left with my head held high, and with a confident stride.

I left and celebrated by going to my favorite sports bar and ordered the happy hour bucket of drinks.

I talked to a pretty girl and shared a drink. I told her the story, and no, no numbers were exchanged. I was honest about my financial situation, and she was far too young for me.

But she was warm, and supportive. And positive and upbeat. She was studying to be a medical assistant and went to school three times a week.

But the persistence of dreams prevail, and so I started to think... Wouldn't it be nice if this panned out, and I could afford to move into a place of my own? I could start an open mike night and charge a dollar for drinks.

I could be THAT guy, who creates his own atmosphere to thrive in, beginning with the creature comforts of home.

I could make something, do something, build something, that however permeable it may be, could sing to the heavens, this is how it should be.

And isn't life grand, when you're able to say that? Isn't life good, when you can say you've done more than pass the time and eat food?

I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm in danger of running off the rails. But the persistence of dreams calls forth our secret selves. "This is who you really are, and this, the path towards your becoming. Take a look, this is what your life can be."

And is there a better moment, than that one in which you answer,  "Yes, it is."