Knock Knock... Opportunity, Is That You?

After I finished loading the dishwasher last night, (yay, another rollicking St. Paddy's Day!) I checked my email, which is normally a giant letdown as my inbox generally overflows with Old Navy alerts and messages from class mothers seeking volunteers, (until I volunteer and they then write back to tell me they have enough volunteers - how many times should this occur before I take it personally?) only to discover a recruiter had reached out to me via LinkedIn.

I was a little leery as the subject line read: "I have an incredible opportunity for you." But I felt he showed sufficient restraint by not peppering that statement with exclamation points - definitely a red flag. And as I was equal parts desperate for "opportunity" and grateful that it wasn't another Nigerian money laundering scam or an ad assuring me there's still time to enlarge my penis, I opened it excitedly.

Skimming the email and his accompanying photo, this headhunter didn't look at all like a grifter in his smart, blue button-down. He said he was contacting me because of my "unique skill set."

When I shared this information with my husband (so supportive!) he said, "I wouldn't believe it for a second."

"Which part," I asked, "that he's a real recruiter or that I have a skill set?"

Before he could answer, I heard the voice of my father, "If you believe everyone who says, 'I have an incredible opportunity for you,' I've got a bridge to sell you." (Insert maniacal laughter here.) Couple this with the fact that my mother is trying to pawn me off on fast food chains and it's a wonder I have any self esteem left at all.

Since turning down an offer last Monday, I've been second guessing myself more frequently than a "Deal or No Deal" contestant. Despite sending out dozens of resumes each week, the only incoming calls we've been receiving are from school nurses (it's strep throat season) and non-profit solicitors with whom I share our sad tale. "Yes, that's right, we were both laid off. No, not even suitable part-time work. It's very hard. Did I mention we have three children? Well, thank you. If you'd like to donate to us or, maybe just take our number off this list, that'd be swell."

At this point, how can I not entertain any and all possibilities?

"C'mon," I said to my husband. "I've Google'd him and this guy seems legit."

He shook his head and went back to folding laundry. As he walked away with mismatched socks adorning each shoulder, I wondered, "Why would I listen to him?" Wasn't it just that afternoon that he'd been heartened by the words of his friend's mom who told him he should try to become a director of corporate communications because, get this, he's "tall?"

Taking encouragement from the words of that unlikely sage Katy Perry, who went from zero to her own hero, I decided to write back to the recruiter. Let's face it, I've got nothing to lose (and I still had an hour before the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills Reunion convened.)

As long as the job he has in mind doesn't involve porn, sampling hot sauces or animal mutilation, I'm game. Stay tuned...

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