...and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Beep.

Ring Ring...Ring Ring...

Never in the 10 or so years I've been using cell phones, did I ever expect them to have any major impact on deciding what path my life goes down. I've never treated them with the respect they truly deserve, but only because of my own naiveté towards the magnitude of their power.

Two weeks ago, I went through a first interview with a job that I could easily describe as a dream; a step in the right direction towards what I think I really would like to spend the rest of my life doing. My application was a shot in the dark, since it's a jump from the TV/Film industry (which I have been working in the last 7 years) to the music industry, one that I have virtually no contacts or professional experience in. Someone even asked me who my contacts were in order to land this interview in the first place, because apparently it's not the easiest battle to feat. I suppose I should reveal specifics; are you ready for it? The job is to be the assistant to the Vice-President of Music Licensing for Television and Film at Interscope-Geffen-A&R Records. Yeah. My thoughts exactly.

After 2 weeks of no follow-up from my first interview, I had pretty much written off ever hearing from them again. That was my first mistake. I often forget that in the corporate world (and being under the umbrella of Universal Music Group - this is definitely a corporate position) the hiring process can sometimes take a lengthy amount of time, depending.

Last Thursday evening, a voicemail notice popped up on my cell phone screen, which I immediately called to check. It was my friend Candace, calling from Texas to say hi, and shoot the shit. Good to hear her voice. But wait, my call didn't end; there was another message, one that was from the HR rep that I initially interviewed with at Interscope. He was calling to see if I could come in on that Friday (note : this was Thursday evening that I'm hearing this message) to meet with the hiring manager. And then the time stamp : Message recorded at 10:30am, Wednesday morning. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. I frantically called his office, even though it being after hours, left him a message explaining that I had just received word and I was completely available to come in the following day, or any day the next week.

Friday comes. No return call. I call again and leave a second message. "Hi...It's Caroline...still available this afternoon or anytime next week. Thanks much..."

Friday ends. No return call, leading me into a weekend of wrestling between the thoughts that missing this message may have entirely screwed me for life and "No, I'm sure they have just been busy and are going to get back to me first thing Monday."

Monday comes. I call for the third time, like a gal who hasn't heard from the blind date that she thought "went really well" and is just calling to "check in" (ugh), but this time the interviewer answers. "Hi...It's Caroline..." He already knew exactly who it was. I'm not sure what I said, and specifically what he said, all I heard were scattered words here and there, each one like a tiny cannonball shooting flaming metal orbs straight into my heart. "Zero-ed in on another candidate" , "coming in to finalize tomorrow", "we'll let you know if it doesn't work out"....

36 hours. I missed the message by 36 hours. It only took 36 hours for my life to jam it's foot on the brakes and slam the Interscope door in my face.

Everyone (everyone = my mom, my dad) keeps saying, "Well, nothing is completely done quite yet, so you never know..." That's really just a mom and dad's way of saying, "Shit, honey. That blows."

The only valuable lesson I've gotten out of this situation is to really acknowledge the power of communication mediums. If an email accidentally gets looked over, a phone call returned just a bit too late, you never know what weight it could hold.

What if the next time the phone rings it's your Aunt Ida calling to tell you there is a plane flying right above your house that has blown out it's last reserve engine and your future is sitting in aisle seat 12C? And that you should probably get out before it's too late?

Eh, I'll just let it go to voicemail.