Ah, where to begin? Perhaps with the initial glimmer of hope—when the CEO herself reached out to me about a position. Flattered and intrigued, I naively believed I was about to embark on a professional journey marked by competence and mutual respect. Spoiler alert: I was wrong. What followed was six weeks of what I can only describe as a symphony of disarray. Coordinating interviews felt like an Olympic sport—complete with hurdles, delays, and the occasional baton drop. Nevertheless, I persisted, buoyed by a fantastic first round and optimism for what was to come. Then came the pièce de résistance: the final interview with the CEO, an experience that redefined my understanding of awkwardness and unprofessionalism. I entered the conversation genuinely excited, ready to discuss her recent accomplishments, delve into articles she’d written, and connect on a human level. Instead, she arrived fashionably late, blaming HR for the scheduling oversight (an innovative touch, really). As if that weren’t enough, she greeted me with a blank expression that screamed, “Wait… who are you again?” Cue the awkward silence as I scrambled to send her my resume on the spot. The conversation, if one could call it that, quickly devolved into an interrogation. Questions were fired at me with the finesse of a poorly aimed cannon, only to be abruptly interrupted by her declaring, “The position is on hold, but we’ll let you know.” And just like that, she vanished from the call, leaving me stunned, confused, and deeply unimpressed. The sheer lack of organization, courtesy, or basic professionalism was staggering. This wasn’t just an interview gone wrong—it was a case study in how not to treat candidates. Needless to say, I won’t be showing them my interest ever again.