At Least My Hair Looked Good...

I have a lot of ego tied up in my job. To confess to a professional screw-up is harder for me than admitting any number of personal weaknesses, so this hurts. Among my colleagues, I'm the prissy little Hermione Granger-type who always reads the small print.

Salt Lake County is pondering my request that they cough up $35,000 for my English as a Second Language program. I got an e-mail from them a few days ago that informed me of my appointed time for a ten-minute hearing. There's a citizen panel that reads my proposal; they ask me questions, which I answer brilliantly. Then, awed, they share the bounty. They sent me a second e-mail the following day, containing the questions I needed to be prepared to answer.

Now, I did not get funded by the county last year. They only gave money to 3 agencies, out of 50 or so that applied. According to them, I shouldn't feel bad: I was number four on the list! I missed it by a hair's breadth!

Oh! Thanks! I feel so much better now!

I would really like to emerge triumphant this year.

So, the night before my hearing, I gave a lot of thought to how I would answer their questions. Took careful notes. Pondered the possible political weight of every word I planned to say.

The next morning, I put on one of my "power" outfits and finally got my hair done. It had been months. I was starting to look as if I had been living in a cave all winter. I emerged, perfectly coiffed, just in time to go to the county offices.

I walked into the hearing feeling like a million bucks. The receptionist checked me in, buzzed the panel and asked me, "Do you have your six copies?"

"Six copies? Of what?"

Maybe she thinks I'm here for some other sort of hearing. One requiring six copies of something.

"Of the questions the panel sent you yesterday, and your answers."

[3 heartbeats]

[3 more heartbeats]

"I didn't know I was supposed to bring that."

The receptionist shuffles through her copies of the e-mails that had been sent out to the candidates.

Please, let it be a mistake. She will search through the text of the e-mails and say something like "Hmmm...I thought it was in here somewhere...Well, goodness me! We must have left that out! I am so sorry!"

Nope. There it is. One line in the last e-mail, saying, "Please arrive five minutes early, with six copies of your questions and responses."

"Oof. I didn't see it. I didn't read the e-mail thoroughly." That's for sure. My eye went straight to the questions - I totally ignored the surrounding text.

"Do you have anything at all?!"

"Well... just my handwritten notes..."

"I can copy those..."

I glance at them. They are in my own personal shorthand. I have written stuff and crossed it out... substituted it with other stuff....

Suddenly, I'm totally calm again. The calm that I guess must come in the moment before certain death. I shrug.

"No. That would be worse then nothing, I think. I'll just tell them that I screwed up."

After another minute passed, the door opened, and out walked one of my counterparts/ colleagues / competitors (depending on the day) from another agency, whose hearing had just ended. She looked so f***ing breezy and happy.

Fake it, Kate.

"Hi, Catherine! How's it going?"

Please, Catherine, rush over to me and whisper, "Oh, Kate, I can't believe it! I forgot to bring 6 copies of my questions! I was so upset until the panel told me that NO ONE saw that line in the instructions. Whew!" No such luck.

"Hey, Kate! I'm great! How are you?"

"Pretty well, thanks."

I should've known, Smug-Ass. You dotted all your "i"s and crossed all your "t"s, didn't ya'. God Dammit.

"You got your hair cut! Looks great."

"Thanks!"

Now, please go away.

Well, you can guess the rest. I went in, told the panel that I had failed to read the instructions carefully and did not have the questions answered in writing. That I was sorry for the inconvenience. That I would e-mail the answers to the panelists as soon as got back to my office. The hearing proceeded.

Now, I will just have to wait. There are tough funders that would disqualify an applicant for an error like that. My impression has always been that the county isn't THAT anal. However, I have never tested my impression by actually screwing up, so what do I know?

I will concede that great highlights are only going to get me so far.