The Dreaded Interview Question

"So, Heidi..." (Here it comes) "Now that we've talked about your accomplishments..." (Wait for it...) "Why don't you tell me about some of your faults?" Ugh.

What is the right thing to say when this question comes up? You know it's coming...it always does...but how to respond?

My first instinct is always to say that I'm a control-freak-over-achieving perfectionist who doesn't tolerate procrastination well in myself, or in others. (This manifests in me being perpetually early for every occasion and arguably wasting a lot of time over-preparing.) But my Westpoint-Grad / Top of His MBA Class / VP of His Company husband just looked at me and shook his head with pity when I ran that option by him. Sooo...maybe not.

Here's the thing. I don't lie. This goes way back to my childhood when a couple of my brothers blamed me for punishable behavior like carving declarations of love into the dining room table or taking apart all of our bikes and leaving the parts in piles all over the driveway. Really?

So I think lying is beyond lame and the benefit of doing it is never worth the repercussions...unless of course it involves my children. Ie: "The tooth fairy must have had an emergency last night. She'll surely be here tonight..." or "Keep your seat belt on or we're all going to be thrown in jail." But beyond that category of exceptions, I don't do it. Why should I?

When asked about my faults, these are the truly unhelpful things that go through my mind:

- I'm cynical. I always expect the worst and prepare myself for it accordingly. More than once I've been referred to affectionately as "Miss Sunshine" by a manager. I'm not an optimist. It can't be helped. I once bought a book called "How to be an Optimist" and threw it down after the first chapter because it was so fundamentally DUMB. Who has time to consider every possible positive outcome and who is self-destructive enough to hope for every positive outcome? It's way more efficient to expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised if it doesn't actually happen.

- I'm self-deprecating. I don't necessarily think making fun of myself is a bad thing. In fact, I find that it typically disarms people when I tell them that yes, it's 105 degrees outside and I'm wearing jeans. But it's more for you than for me, for if I exposed my ghostly pale, weirdly skinny, badly scarred legs, we would all be uncomfortable. So I suffer the heat for the good of those around me. Not really a fault.

- Here's one. Certain words and sounds make me want to jump out of my skin. I will not list the seemingly harmless words here as I know some of my dear friends would most certainly torment me endlessly with them. As for sounds... You know when you're in a movie theater and there are brief moments of silence before the movie starts? I literally have to clutch the arms of my chair (or the arm of my husband) to keep myself from running screaming from the room when I hear everyone around me chomping popcorn and sucking soda through straws and then swallowing. My skin is crawling just thinking about it. Watching my husband eat ribs or a salad with ranch dressing has a similar affect. Or hearing someone talk when they clearly need a drink of water and have that yucky greyish goo on the sides of their mouth...

I had a professor at TCU who persistently had this problem. To cope for the 50 minutes 3 times a week that I had to spend with him, I had to squeeze the leg of the poor girl next to me. I can only imagine the bruises. It was her own fault, though because if I wasn't yet aware of the disgusting smacking sound situation, she all too eagerly pointed it out to me.

I don't think any amount of therapy or self-help books can cure me of my sound/visual issues.

- Another fault is that it is unusually hard for me to simply accept things as fact without knowing the WHY behind it. I can't tell you how many times I annoyed my statistics professor by demanding to know where he got that number from and WHY do I have to memorize this seemingly random formula that you can't explain the reasoning for. Why??

I also surprised the minister at my church when I called a meeting with him after he said something along the lines of:
"There are 20 people. 8 are Muslims, 8 are Christians, 2 are Jews and 2 are Hindus. Just one of these people will enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
My brain shut off before he could really finish - and in all honesty, I probably bruised my husband's leg while thinking, "WHAT?"

So I met with the minister and demanded to know why. He sent me on my way with two more self-help books to add to my collection and a request to contact him when I finished with them. They're sitting next to my "How to be an Optimist" book.

- Staying with the religious theme for just a moment... I e-mailed my science professor who made it known that he was a "devout" Christian who believed the Bible to be literal...and was also an evolutionist. I asked him to explain how he justified the contradictions...mostly out of curiosity. He then told me he felt like God wanted him to "lead" me and that I should meet him for coffee. There he would enlighten me. I agreed. Stupid.

Over coffee, he not only didn't explain his thought process, but he had gucky mouth and was a loud swallower. He also hit on me. At least he didn't hand me a self-help book.

- This leads me to another fault. In spite of my cynical nature, I don't have a good "crappy person" radar anymore. I think it got overused in the Army and in subsequent situations. Now I'm able to find good, or at least excuse crappiness in almost every person I meet. This drives my sister-in-law crazy as she's had to rescue me from precarious situations when we've gone out to a bar. I remember saying one time, "But he's a Native American, Michele!" as she dragged me away. Evidently, Native Americans who try to ply you with Tequila shots may not have the noblest of intentions. Got it.

- Another fault. I'm a recovering "Yes Person." If you need help, I'm your girl - no matter how it inconveniences me. I'll help you study, proofread your 20-page paper, TA your class, edit the textbook you're writing, watch your child while you go camping overnight... It goes on and on. (Went on and on. I'm recovering, dammit.)

Scott doesn't allow me to answer the phone because I can't say no to the nonprofits that call. (I have more address labels than any one human being could ever possibly use). As of late, my door-answering privileges have been revoked as well. Last week I bought sheets (of all things) from three junior high school cheerleaders. (Scott is convinced they're part of some sort of elaborate scamming scheme. They're cheerleaders, for God's sake!) A couple of weeks before that, I spent 20 minutes talking to two very sweet, wholesome Mormon boys. Scott made me cancel my second meeting with them. Let's be honest. I'm not giving up Diet Dr. Pepper or the occasional Amstel Light for anyone. I now have no idea what to do with The Book of Mormon they left me with. It's sitting on top of my refrigerator. I refuse to put in the trash someone else's religious beliefs...literally or figuratively.

I could go on and on...but I just don't see how these faults relate to my ability to be a good employee...nor do I think my potential employer wants to hear about how my 65-year-old biology teacher hit on me while talking religion. I'm a reliable, loyal, resourceful, hardworking girl who may or may not squirm when you're dehydrated. But that's MY problem, not yours.

This writing exercise has not been helpful. I'm going to have to keep thinking on this one. I have faults...I just have to figure which are my relevant, yet acceptable faults. I guess there could be worse things to grapple with.