Last week, I prepared a very qualified candidate for an interview for her 'dream job.' Sure, she was a little nervous about a few questions she might be asked about her resume.

Last week, I prepared a very qualified candidate for an interview for her "dream job." Sure, she was a little nervous about a few questions she might be asked about her resume. After all, about a year ago, after working at her law firm for a number of years, she up and quit her job to care for an ailing family member and do volunteer work. Plus, she felt "rusty" in terms of her interviewing skills, in large part because she had not interviewed for a job since before graduating from law school.

By the time we conducted the preparation session for the interview, this candidate had done her homework and practiced answers to many of the questions we anticipated she would be asked. As we spoke, she fine-tuned her answers and articulated them in the most concise way. Moreover, she had researched the individuals with whom she was going to meet and crafted some insightful questions for each of the interviewers. By the time she was finished preparing for the interview, she was confident, excited and ready to go. As I always do, I asked her to call me after the interview to provide me a summary of how she thought it went.

As the obedient candidate that she is, she called me as soon as she finished the interview. That is when the self-torture began. She began recounting each and every sentence she articulated to each interviewer and began tearing each response apart. Within two minutes of calling me, she was practically in tears, convinced that she had sounded like an uneducated, inarticulate, unqualified candidate who had no chance of receiving an offer.